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i 







THE 


Rose of Disentis. 


A ISrOVEL. 


BY / 
/ 


E I N R I C hJ^Z S C H O K K E 






TRANSLATED PROM THE GERMAN 


JAMES J. D. TR?:N0BL 




vtioiÄSf 
SHINS' 



NEW YORK: A 

Sheldon & Company. 
1873- 




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by 
SHELDON & CO., 

in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 


The following Novels of the Zschokke Series, 
by the same Translator, are now in press : 

THE SANCTUARY OF AARAU. 

LYONEL HARLINGTON. 

RETRIBUTION (Addrich im Moos). 
ALAMONTADE. 


VVm. McCrea & Co.. StereotypcTs, 
Newlnirgh, N. Y. 


TßANSLATOR’S PREFACE. 


r j IHIS book is tlie first of several which I have trans- 
lated from the German of Zschokke, and intend 
publishing. 

The author has not been paraphrased, e. mangled, 
but honestly rendered into English. Even slight depart- 
ures from the German original are rare in this book, and 
have only been made in such cases as the rendering of 
proverbs and the like, where such a course is absolutely 
necessary. I trust the beautiful German original does 
not leave my hands disfigured ; upon that point, how- 
ever, the competent and unbiassed critic must decide. 

JAMES J. D. TREKOK. 


mw York, Sejpt 1, 1873. 



CONTENTS 


I. 

PAOB 

Introduction 7 

IL 

Preliminary 9 

III. 

Tlie Theatre 13 

lY. 

Struggles of the Factions 17 

Y. 

St, Maurice 20 

YI. 

Bombast 23 

YII. 

The Bose of Disentis 27 

YIII. 

Count Schaue7istein 32 

IX. 

ZFli Coin 36 

X. 

■ Discoveries 42 

XI. 

A Letter from Patmos 49 

XII. 

Fate of the Bose of Disentis 53 


IV 


CONTEI^TS, 


XIII. 

PAG? 

Continuation 59 

XIY. 

Conclusion of the Letter 68 

XY. 

Ziast Letter *11 

XYI. 

Over the St Gothard 81 

XYII. 

A Scene at Headquarters 86 

XYIII. 

The March Over the Higher Alps 90 

XIX. 

The Landsturm 97 

XX. 

The Martial Envoys 100 

XXI. 

The Battle 106 

XXII. 

The Avalanche Ill 

XXIII. 

An Old Acquaintance 115 

XXIY. 

The Dreadful Night 123 

XX Y. 

Complications 129 

XXYI. 

Explanations 131 

XXYII. 

Continuation of the Journal 136 


CONTENTS. 


V 


XXYIIL 

PAGE 

Last Continuation of the Journal 146 

XXIX. 

A Prison Scene 155 

XXX. 

The Commandant 163 

XXXI. 

A Fresh Vbw 167 

XXXII. 

Apprehensions on all hands 173 

XXXIII. 

The First of May 178 

XXXIY. 

The Insurrection 184 

XXXY. 

landsturm Doing s 190 

XXXYI. 

"Worhing of the Insurrection 197 

XXXYII. 

Death and Wounds 201 

XXXYIII. 

The Retreat 207 

XXXIX. 

The Farewell 213 

XL. 

Fresh Danger 218 

XLI. 

The Final Departure 225 

XLII. 

Yicarage 231 


VI 


COXTE^TS. 


XLIII. 

PAG« 

The Burning of Disentis 235 

XLIY. 1 

In the Alps 241i 

XLY. 

The Story at the ’Waterfall 250 

XLYI. 

Through the Sernfthal 259 

XLYII. 

The Voice from Heaven 265 

XLYIIL 

Once More 271 

XLIX. 

Alls Weä that Ends Well 277 


The Rose of Disentis. 


I, 


INTBODUCTIOir. 



0 the man whose life is full of events, there are many 


^ combinations of real circumstances more romantic 
than such as go to make up the everyday novel. Among 
such may be reckoned the series which I am about to re- 
late. I am not going to give myself the trouble of at- 
tempting to convince my readers of the truth of this 
account. Everyone may believe just as much or as little 
of it as he chooses. At the present day, two classes have 
the privilege of being very little believed, novel writers 
and diplomatists, swear they never so stoutly by their 


honor. 


Tlie events to be here narrated, occurred during the 
French revolutionary wars, and are connected with an 
episode of those wars hardly noticed by most historians, or 
dismissed parenthetically, although that very episode in- 
volved the misery, wounds, or death of many hundreds 
of men. 

The scene of this tragedy is laid in unfrequented rocky 
valleys, but little known, of which our geographers and 
travellers have hardly anything to say, although they lie 
in the very centre of Europe, and belong to the most pic- 
turesque in Switzerland. The little nation which inhabits 
them is equally unknown to the rest of the world ; 


8 


THE ROSE OF DISEJSfTlS. 


although, did it attach any importance to such distinction, 
it might, in its fastnesses, boast of the oldest and purest 
blood in Europe. 

The novelist thus finds himself obliged to append to his 
story, which, after all, is intended for instruction, a few 
explanatory remarks ; and to give such a description of 
the place and circumstances as will make the reader feel 
at home during the course of the narrative. 


11 . 


PRELIMINARY. 



T the close of the eighteenth century, there were few 


princes seated on European thrones whose natural 
endowments and education fitted them for their exalted 
2>osition. The majority of them, even allowing them to 
be good natured and well disposed, would, as private indi- 
viduals, hardly have attracted the attention of their next 
door neighbors. State matters were for the most part 
left to their cabinet ministers, courtiers, spiritual advisers, 
and, frequently, to worse than these. 

This did not prevent people from calling them the well- 
beloved, or the fathers of their respective countries. Some 
of them indeed were nullities or downright insane, as 
everyone knows. 

Accordingly, their subjects were happy, or the reverse, 
just as the circumstances might be. The higher classes 
lived in the comfortable enjoyment of their hereditary 
privileges. The highest dignities and offices fell to them 
without their having been at any greater trouble than 
that of being born in families well provided with genea- 
logical trees. Precisely for the reason that they did the 
state the least service, they received enormous pay ; not 
less, at least, than ballet-dancers and singers secure by 
vigor of throat and nimbleness of foot. 

The people, properly so called, were studiously kept to 
the old-fashioned simplicity and loyalty. This increased 
their taste for the position of hereditary ministers to the 
comforts of the great. Their blood and treasure were 
spent without a murmur upon their masters, in war and 


10 


THE BOSE OF DISENTIS. 


peace ; and as a set-off to their privations and sufferings 
in this vale of tears, they were comforted with a reference 
to the future joys of Heaven. 

The maritime powers, like good Christians, drove a 
brisk trade in men’s souls and slaves ; the great conti- 
nental powers did a similar healthy business in their dear 
devoted subjects at their own recruiting dens, or simply 
sold their services to foreign states. 

And yet this good old time threatened to come to an 
abrupt end when the French nation became restive, 
because the peasant did not find, according to the promise 
of Henry lY., his fowl in the pot every Sunday ; indeed, 
he hardly got even the pot itself. Driven to despair, the 
French very unexpectedly burst their bonds and pulled 
down their Bastiles. They wanted to be free, but only 
succeeded in being impudent. They smashed, however, 
the royal throne to atoms, and raised a republic upon 
ground slippery with gore. 

The monarchs of Europe, wrathful at this attack made 
upon their divine rights in the person of one of their royal 
brethren, prepared for war and vengeance. At that time, 
the right of peoples had no very divine complexion in their 
eyes. For instance, they had ruthlessly annihilated Poland, 
the most ancient State in Europe ; had stripped the flesh 
from her bones, and, in a fraternal way, had divided the 
pieces among themselves as lawful booty. This they 
looked upon as very statesmanlike and proper. 

The war against France began. She was threatened, 
upon the slightest resistance, with the destruction of Paris, 
and was quietly informed that salt would be sown within 
her desolate precincts. The nations who were spectators 
of the duel, very naturally wondered at the occurrence of 
the incredible; they saw half-disciplined armies victorious 
over the paragons of the parade-ground, and inexperienced 
generals defeating the most renowned antagonists. They 
learned too, that the son of the tradesman and peasant 


PRELIMINARY. 


11 


could perform deeds of heroism equal to those of princes 
and men of noble blood ; that it was evident there wore, 
in the ranks of the people, more clear-sighted statesmen 
and generals to-the-manner-born than in the region of 
high-sounding titles, and fat offices ; and that nature, with- 
out the slightest respect for prejudices, would not, in the 
distribution of her gifts, allow herself to be, in the least 
degree, bribed by genealogies, orders, or uniforms. The 
kings, finally exhausted or overpowered, concluded, not 
without terrible losses, their “ eternal peace’’’ (for a few 
years or months,) with the victorious Republic. 

The Republic herself, rendered wanton as well as 
overpowering by the success of her arms, was the first to 
invade the sanctuary of the people’s rights, of which she 
had been the prime advocate. She proudly girdled her- 
self, as though they were trophies, with the territories of 
defeated nations, and “ called ” them the independent 
Batavian, Cisalpine, Ligurian Republics, stifling freedom 
within, and destroying independence without. Indeed, 
while annihilating, beyond the seas, the ancient Egyptian 
kingdom of the Mamelukes, she destroyed red-handed, 

I even in Switzerland, the Confederation of the oldest re- 
publics in the world, and turned them into a Helvetian 
Rej-ublic, one and indivisible. 

Of all these republics, the only one which the French 
rulers allowed to go unscathed, was the little strip of terri- 
tory in the bosom of the highest Alps, called Graubiindeii 
or Rhetia. 

They did this out of no feeling of magnanimity, but 
simply on account of the poverty and insignificance of the 
little domain, hardly one hundred and fifty square miles in 
extent. The narrow passes of Bünden into Germany and 
Italy, had, from time immemorial, been considered by the 
jealous neighboring powers of the greatest importance. 
France herself did not want to break the peace which had 


12 


TUE ROSE OF D18ENTIS, 


been concluded at Campo Formio only six months pre- 
viously. 

For the present, then, the only thing done was politely 
to invite the little Bündner people to incorporate them- 
selves voluntarily with the Helvetian Republic. 

The mountaineers, whose chiefs were not wanting in 
sagacity, saw clearly that, sooner or later, they must of 
necessity either gravitate towards Switzerland, or, like 
Venice and Genoa, bid adieu forever to their liberty. As, 
however, it was only a voluntary annexation to Helvetia 
which was demanded, they considered there was no great 
hurry in the matter, and thought if it must come to 
pass, that, possibly, delay might procure for them advan- 
tageous conditions. Besides, where the government was 
of so singularly original a character as in Graubünden, it 
was no easy matter to dispose of a question of such 
moment. 


III. 


THE THEATRE. 



ET the reader imagine to himself a diminutive territory, 


traversed by a net-work of mountain-chains, running 
in various directions, carrying on their flanks about three 
hundred glaciers ; the inhabitants living in the meshes of 
this net, in poverty but contentment, occupied chiefly with 
the care of their herds or a little husbandry. Such is 
Graubünden. 

This insignificant community was not only divided into 
diflerent groups by the towering mountain-chains, by three 
difierent languages, and two different creeds, but further 
than this, by diverse political institutions. The whole 
formed no less than about thirty small, tolerably independ- 
ent Republics, called High-Courts, with various constitu- 
tions, laws and rights. This little army of free states was 
held together, to some extent, by three treaties made at 
various times, each state still having its own chief magis- 
trate and its own representative chamber. These three 
treaties were woven into a common one which formed the 
basis of foreign relations, the various questions arising 
from which were settled by plenipotentiaries in a kind of 
diet. 

The execution of decrees was committed to three chiefs. 
Still, neither the diet nor the government could boast of 
any extraordinary power. For their measures were again 
submitted to the approval of the republics collectively. 
The majority of votes then decided ; still the vote of each 
individual republic was by no means equal to that of every 
other. Nothing could be more natural than that, in such a 


14 : 


THE BOSE OF DISEimS. 


tangled web of politics, eternal confusion, cupidity, ambi- 
tion, religious and political discord, indeed even revolt and 
civil war should become endemic. Of these things, how- 
ever, cotemporary history has taken very little notice. 

The sovereign ruler of the land, namely the people^ had 
the usual fate of Rulers. It was flattered by advisers and 
favorites ; kept in ignorance, directed according to private 
interests, and not unfrequently deceived. If at any time its 
masters drove it too hard, the enraged autocrat betook it- 
self to general destruction : good and bad went together. 
As, however, during such fits no one suffered greater dan- 
ger than the sovereign people itself, its anger generally 
subsided pretty quickly. 

In a state so small and poor as this mountain-land, 
where, (and such may be the case too in great states,) 
political principles and opinions usually depended upon 
the advantages accruing to their advocates, there could 
never be any dearth of factions. For a long time, the chief 
part among the magnates was played by the lords of 
Salis, represented in the different villages by various 
branches of their house. Finally there stood at their 
head a man of great business capacity and energy, 
Ulysses of Salis-Marschlins. 

For a long time he found it compatible with his patri- 
otism to represent the interests of a foreign power in his 
own country, as an envoy of the French court with the 
title of Minister. 

As soon, however, as, through the fall of Louis XVL, he 
lost his influential position, and his numerous followers, or 
party, lost their round income either from military service 
or ])ensions, he and they became the deadly enemies of 
France, and turned towards the Court of Austria, in the 
hope of propping up their declining influence by zealous 
support of its interests. 

As a matter of fact, their exalted position and power 
had already been subjected to some rude shocks. For 


THE THEATRE. 


15 


their antagonists in the highland valleys, numbering many 
able and acute men, among whom were the Tscharners, 
Plantas, Bavieres, even some members of the Sails family 
itself, were indefatigable in tracking and exposing the 
greatest as well as the smallest sins against the state, 
every infraction of the constitution, and every attempt 
at bribery on the part of the oligarchy. 

To the aristocratic pride of this same oligarchy they 
opposed stern democratic stubbornness, and raised the 
farming of the taxes which, for half a century, the house 
of Sails had held undisputed for 16,000 gulden a year, up 
to 60,000. 

This and many other things daily increased the anger 
and vindictiveness of both parties. Each endeavored to 
cast suspicion on the other with the many-headed sove- 
reign people, and to egg it on to the. destruction of its 
rival. It will be seen that in republics things go much in 
the same way as they do in monarchies. But, when the 
failure of the crops came in the year 1793 ; when the im- 
portation of Suabian corn fell off in addition ; and, to boot, 
Semonville and Maret, the French envoys, were arrested 
on Bündner territory, and delivered to Austria by the 
followers of the Sails party, a terrible outcry arose among 
the. cantons. An extraordinary session of the estates, and 
an impartial court were called for by the people. Ulysses 
of Salis-Marschlins, fearing either the justice or injustice 
of his judges, fled the country. Like many of the most 
energetic men of his, or as it was called, the Austrian 
party, he paid for his political sins by enormous fines. 

His victorious oj^ponents, now called the French party, 
(they called themselves patriots^ celebrated a decisive 
triumph. Baptist von Tscharner, the mayor of Chur, 
stood, as president of the nobility, at their head. 

This in no wise ended the struggles of the factions. 
When, a few years later, the revolted subject-lands of 
Bünden, viz., Valteline, Chiavenna, and Bormio, demanded 


lö 


THE ROSE OF BISENTI8. 


equal rights and freedom with the ruling province, a major^ 
ity of the hereditary rulers and cantons actually decided 
to admit those territories, as a fourth confederation, into 
the United States. The conqueror of Italy, Napoleon 
Bonaparte, called upon to decide in the matter, had actual- 
ly named a day for his decision. The enemies of France 
tlien succeeded in postponing the sending of envoys to 
the French commander until the time allowed by him had 
expired. The subject-lands were thus united to the Cisal- 
pine republic.* 

The loss of a fertile and beautiful piece of territory of 
60 square miles and more than 80,000 inhabitants, but 
still more, perhaps, the loss of the private property of many 
Bünden families, and their own loss of the offices and 
bailiwicks enraged the mountaineers still more against 
the aristocratic faction. 

Envoys were sent to the congress at Rastatt, and Paris, 
but failed to undo what was done. They were obliged 
to content themselves with bringing the originators of the 
calamity to trial, and punishing them with fines, exclu- 
sion from office, the right of voting, etc. A poor return 
indeed, for a lost territory, which for near three hundred 
years had been Rhetian property. 

* This decision was given on the 22nd of October, 1797. 


IV. 


STBUQGLES OF THE FACTIONS. 


HE subjugation and political remodeling of the neigh- 



^ boring territory of Switzerland by French armies ; 
the conversion of the old Confederacy into a Helvetian 
Republic, of which Graubünden had already been curso- 
rily mentioned as a part, in the project published at Paris, 
spread terror through all the valleys of the Rhetian 
mountain-chain. The aristocrats looked upon the incor- 
poration of Bünden with a Helvetian free state as the 
death-blow to their last hope of ever recovering their 
old influence, rank and emoluments from the hands of 
princes. This comfortless prospect filled them with the 
courage of despair, and drove them to risk everything, if 
necessary, even the freedom of their people and the life of 
their country in the dread venture. 

They attempted to engage the court of Vienna in a 
secret treaty to take possession, in conjunction with them, 
of Graubünden before the French could make themselves 
masters of it. Complete plans of the campaign were sub- 
mitted to the imperial General Auffenburg, who was in 
the Voralberg, by which he was to march into the high- 
lands ; whence, as from a strong fortress, he might attack 
the French in Italy, as well as in Switzerland with decisive 
advantage, and the entrance to the Tyrol could be cov- 
ered with the greatest certainty and security. 

Every art of persuasion was used to gain over the 
minister resident of Austria in Chur, the Baron von 
Cronthal. Both tlie one and the other held out hopes 


18 


THE ROSE OF LISENTI8. 


but gave evasive answers. Austria’s preparations were 
still incomplete. 

A more favorable opportunity bad to be looked for ; 
up to the present there had been no good pretext, no 
ground for taking this step. “Pretext?” “Ground?” 
“Nothing easier than to find them,” was the reply. “We 
will set the whole people in insurrection, and thus bring 
about a revolution against France in the whole of Swit- 
zerland.” No sooner said than done. In the Catholic! 
valleys of the wild Oberland disturbances imraediatel)* 
broke out. 

But Cronthal himself opposed the premature raising of 
the revolutionary banner. 

In such movements and intrigues passed the first half 
of the eventful year 1798 : during the second half, they 
were more public and decided. The Helvetian govern- 
ment, supported by France, repeated its invitation to 
Bünden to incorporate itself with Switzerland. A ques- 
tion of life and death, such as this, could only be settled 
by the great body of the independent people. It was clear 
however, to every man in his senses, that the little state 
could no longer stand alone ; that sooner or later it would 
be drawn either to Switzerland and into the circle of 
French influence, or would be thrown into that of Austria. 

The democratic party, then in power, in the hope of 
preserving, if not the independence, at least the freedom 
of the nation, were for closer connection with old con 
federate though transformed Switzerland, but under con- 
ditions ; that the actual union should not be effected unti!^ 
after the general pacification of Europe ; and in case this 
could not be, that at least no foreign commanders or sol- 
diers should be allowed to invade tlie soil of Bünden and. 
endanger the prosperity of the land. 1 

This was certainly good advice ; but the voice of their 
aristocratic advisers was more in accord with the ideas, 
customs, and habits of the majority of the mountaineers. 


STRUGGLES OF THE FACTIONS. 


19 


‘‘Wo want no union,” said they, “with wasted and 
unhappy Switzerland ! Let us remain our own masters. 
We can do it. The hereditary house of Austria is with us. 
Do not allow yourselves to be hoodwinked ! Who will be 
a traitor to his country ? Who will call the robber legions 
of France into our peaceful valleys to annihilate the relig- 
ion of our fathers ; to tread under foot our freedom ; to 
plunder our homes; to violate our wives and daughters 
and hurry our sons away to foreign battle-fields ? Who 
means high treason ? No one among us but the French 
faction ! ” 

The vast majority of the people rejected incorporation 
with the Helvetian republic, and treated with reckless 
fury all who had either spoken or voted for it. The dem- 
ocratic party was lost. The general government was 
forced to a dissolution, and to hand over the country to its 
aristocratic adversaries. Henceforward there was nothing 
but ferment, enmity, wrangling, persecution and proscrip- 
tion of all who had recommended annexation to Switzer- 
land. Private hatred and the vengeance of the victori- 
ous faction lorded it over the vanquished. 

The lives and property of the latter were no longer 
safe. Hundreds upon hundreds of the so-called Patriots 
saved themselves from the anger of the enraged people by 
dying over the Alps and Rhine into foreign lands. 


i 


V. 


8T. MAUEIOE. 

M eanwhile, the disorders consequent upon the 
massing of Austrian troops from the east, and of the 
French armies from south and north upon the borders, 
became daily more alarming : the bonds of social inter- 
course, of domestic and family life were severed. Even the 
renowned and hitherto crowded mineral Spa of Saint 
Maurice, in the highlands of the Engadine, was half de- 
serted during the loveliest summer months. And yet the 
healing drink brewed here by the gnomes of the nether ; 
world is not less esteemed than that of Spa or Pyrmont ; , 
while its efficacy is increased by the pure Alpine air, which | 
revivifies the failing limbs. Here, it is true, no splendid i 
edifices were erected over the sacred spring as in the other 
resorts ; nor were there to be found near it palatial bath ; 
and ball-rooms or saloons where misfortune is publicly ; 
courted by the votaries of the fickle goddess. But nature ; 
speaks to the traveller here more powerfully in her won- . 
drous charms than in perhaps any other Swiss valley. ! 

Here, five thousand feet above the level of the sea, the 
visitor dwells in the most inspiring and artistic mountain- ' 
valley, surrounded by an unknown world of plants. : 
Through the tender airy green of the larches sparkle three [ 
crystal lakes in which the young stream of the Inn laves, : 
surrounded by meadows, covered with the thick bloom of : 
the clover, as with roses. 

The dark pine shoots up from the plain, on the hills, and* 
the ancient mountains, which enclose with their glaciers! 
and silver-firs, a majestic picture more overpowering than' 


ST. MAUlilGE. 


21 


Grindelwald or Chamouni. The Rosatscha glacier, on 
whose sides the traveller can gather the Alpine anemone, 
the dark blue gentian, and the northern linnsea, sweeps 
down between gigantic granite-rocks like a broad stream 
frozen in its fall. 

In the beginning of the autumn of 1798, the remaining 
guests at the spring, chiefly families of the Bündner land, 
saw their number increased by a late arrival which at- 
tracted some attention. They were taken for a young 
couple less in quest of the waters than of the honey of 
those fugitive hours which they wished to pass in the 
undisturbed possession of each other. 

The young man was a combination of grace and 
strength, of clear ruddy complexion, with dark auburn 
hair, blue eyes, and the noble strength of the race which 
inhabits the upper Engadine. He might have been about 
twenty years of age, but his beautiful companion could 
hardly have been so old. 

The nobility of her form and carriage, the child like 
sweetness of her countenance, the dreamy enthusiasm of 
the eyes beneath her auburn locks, and a roguish smile 
which played about her lips were as though made to con- 
quer whoever approached her. Still they seldom appeared 
at the spring, which was situated near an old wooden 
building some four hundred yards from the village of ‘^t. 
Maurice. 

They were usually seen, arm in arm, sauntering alone 
through the meadows and forests. It next became a de- 
bated question among the inquisitive guests at the springs, 
to which belonged the palm of beauty. As the verdict of 
the ladies was for the supi^osed bridegroom, and that of 
the gentlemen for the bride, it only remained to make out 
who precisely this loving pair were. 

This was soon discovered. It was ascertained that 
they were anything but a newly married couple ; but a 
brother and sister, children of long deceased parents, of 


22 


TEE EOSE OF D1SENTI8. 


small fortune, from the neighboring valley of Pregall, on 
the other side of the wild Monte MalOja. Both had sud- 
denly become rich by the decease of a relative in England, 
whose heirs they were. The gentleman was a captain of 
riflemen, called Flavian Prevost ; the lady was the wife 
of Count von Schauenstein, an invalid whom she had 
accompanied hither, but who was scarcely able to leave 
his room. 

Thus was the honorable curiosity of the guests satis- 
fied, but hardly to the advantage of the much canvassed 
couple. For it had leaked out, at the same time, that 
Prevost was a confidential friend of the French Minister 
Resident, Florentine Guiot, also of the Tscharners, Plantas, 
Jostes and other patriots, that is, a friend of the French, 
a “ revolutionist” and “ traitor.” From this moment they 
were shunned as though infected with the plague. The 
gentlemen, previously so courteous, scarcely returned the 
young man’s salute in passing ; and only stole an occa- 
sional side-glance at the lovely sister. The ladies showed 
the sister no mercy whatever; some found her bold and 
exacting; others gauche and rustic, others again discov- 
ered that she was devoid of taste, and ignorant of how to 
dress. When, by chance, they met her, they looked anoth- 
er way, or, at the very most gave a compassionate look at 
the splendid form of her escort. 


VI. 


BOMBAST, 



T last we nobles are again on our feet ! ” said one 


of the last remaining guests to another, with whom 
he was quietly chatting, on a clear October morning, in the 
wooden pump-room. 

The nobleman who made this observation, although not 
dressed with the greatest nicety, and somewhat roughly 
built, still seemed to be a person of considerable political 
weight At least one would have judged so from his mas- 
sive sunburnt countenance furrowed as it was by wrinkles 
that gave it the look of creased leather. “ Yes, yes ! on 
our feet, sir ! ” he repeated, gleefully rubbing his hard 
hands ; “something in it, your Wisdom,* something in it. 
The news is worth piles of gold. Up to the present, we 
could not sleep for fear the French might quietly march 
into the land some fine night. Prevost evidently does not 
scent the danger yet. I wonder he does not take to his 
heels like the rest of his traitorous crew.” 

“ He will soon be shown the way if either he can’t or 
won’t find it ! ” replied his neighbor, with distinguished 
listlessness of manner. This was an elderly gentleman, 
faultlessly dressed, with powdered hair, in a grey overcoat 
trimmed with fur, and the ribbon of an order barely per- 
ceptible in the button-hole. He had a meaningless face 
without any distinguishing feature, if we except his nose, 
which terminated in a kind of bluish-red button. “ I only 
wonder,” and he hero blew away a slight cloud -which he 
had inhaled from a large, elegantly-moulded meerschaum 


* A term equivalent to your honor, etc. 


24 : 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


pipe. “ I only wonder any fuss has been made about the 
fellow at all. It is well known that he is nobody, a mere 
clown, a peasant.” 

The bailiff seemed to feel the last words somewhat, and 
said : “ Nobody or Somebody, your Wisdom, matters not a 
deal! Among us here, I think the nobleman is the man 
with money, and according to all accounts Prevost is mas- 
ter of Moses and the prophets. Therefore I say. Nobody 
or Somebody matters not a deal ! Many a fine old Bünd- 
ner family is glad to-day to have a cow in the stall and 
a plough in the oat-field. Unless the emperor keeps us on 
our feet with pensions and regiments, it is quite possible 
for many a stately house with its arms and coronet to 
shrink into a thatched hut.” 

“Pshaw! You seem to have a touch of the blues to- 
day, bailiff ! ” 

“ Blues, your Wisdom ? By my faith, times are enough 
to give them to anyone, and have long been so. Unless 
the emperor stretches out his hand, all our snug little for- 
eign bailiwicks, and fat little oftices are gone forever. For 
some time past, there has been no buying a good berth at 
anything like a reasonable price. When I got my position 
in Teglio, I considered myself lucky only to have had to 
spend five thousand guilders, not counting the cost of all 
the bread, wine, cheese and sausage required for the 
peasants, to keep the voting in anything like promising trim. 
Since Vicari Ott Singer von Katzis paid the Lugnetzers 
fifteen thousand guilders for the captaincy of the canton, 
yes, since then, your Wisdom, there’s not much more to be 
made out of anything ! ” 

“ You are not very far out, bailiff,” said his distin- 
guished Wisdom^ “ now however is not the time for grum- 
bling but for daring. The emperor is on our side with the 
whole might of the monarchy. We are carrying out what 
was recently agreed to at the diet of Ilanz ; we are arming 
six thousand men, as brave as lions and well officered. 


BOMBAST. 


25 


All justice must be dead in heaven and on earth if we 
cannot smash to pieces the rebellious ruffiandom of France 
and Switzerland. The hour of freedom is at hand, say I. 
Every man of us must stake his last coin on the venture ! ” 

The bailiff helped himself, with a rather fretful look, to 
a pinch from his horn snuff-box and said : “The last coin 
is sure to go whether we like it or not. Six thousand men 
to support, quarters for the imperial troops too, war expen- 
ses — the fact is we shall all be beggared. I’ve often thought 
it wasn’t, after all, a bad idea of Baptist von Salis to buy 
the Valteline from us. We should have netted a nice sum, 
divided it between us, and at least have had something in 
hand.” 

“Nonsense, bailiff! If war breaks out we shall recover 
the subject-lands. My word for it, they will pay dear for 
their rebellion. Bünden will never belong to Switzerland, 
in other words to France. We shall get the upper hand. 
And should everything else fail, then, with guarantees for 
our rights and freedom, we are Austria’s. The people may 
not care much who governs them. But we will remain 
our own masters. I am speaking now, mark you, only of 
the most extreme circumstances. Now is the time for 
action ! We are once more masters in the country. Citi- 
zen Guiot, and all our revolutionary heroes have fled, — ” 

“ Not all, your Wisdom ! ” said the bailiff, shaking his 
head; “Thousands, yes, whole districts are looking for 
the French with impatience. Spies everywhere! Just 
imagine that Prevost, who is comfortably corresponding 
with the enemy ! ” 

“I say,” said the magnate, with great deliberation of 
look and tone, “ I say, bailiff, he has corresponded with the 
enemy! I have already written to Chur. He' will bo 
arrested and made an example of. Prevost is neither more 
nor less than a spy. According to the laws of war he 
ought to be hanged, and I should like to help him to it.” 

“Here I am! Would not your Wisdom prefer finish- 
2 


m 


THE BOSE OF DISENTIS. 


ing the little job out of hand ? ” unexi^ectedly thundered 
out a powerful voice. The captain of riflemen had walked 
into the pump-room, through the open door, had heard the 
last words, and in three paces was standing before the 
statesman. 

The latter fell back so terrified into his seat that his 
pig-tail flew upwards, and the powder from it formed a 
cloud with the smoke that escaped from his mouth. The 
usual flush of his face settled down into a deathly paleness ; 
his nose alone had the courage to maintain its pristine 
violet hue. 

“Well ! what?” he eventually stammered out, “What 
is your pleasure, sir ? Who are you ? ” 

“I am Captain Prevost, and will give your Wisdom a 
l^iece of sound advice.” 

“ Sir — sir — I require none,” said the magnate, recover- 
ing himself. 

“ That is the reason why you and your compeers have 
plunged the country into disaster,” replied the Captain: 
“ Your faction is like Samson, who shook down the house 
in order to destroy his enemies, and found his own grave 
amidst the ruins. Such is a summary of the collective 
inisdom of your party at the present day. But enough ! 
Pardon me for disturbing you. I was looking for a very 
diflerent man.” 

With these words, he turned suddenly on his heel, left 
the pump-room, and hastened to his beautiful sister, who 
was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. 


VII. 

TEE BOSE OF BISEN T 13. 

you not find him there?” she asked, as she took 
his arm. 

“No, but instead of him, I found a pair of flat-heads 
whom they dub with the title of Wisdom. Let us go back 
to the village,” he answered gloomily, and led the young 
lady away. 

“ Flavian, do not let the flat-heads turn your own!” 
said his sister. “ With us your life would be pure peace and 
enjoyment if you would only give up your terrible game 
of politics. Both parties are equally possessed with the 
spirit of extreme fanaticism. Let them go ! ” 

“ If I could only let myself go ! ” he said with a sigh : 
“ To-day I must be oflf. The sooner the better. There is 
no safety here. My dear Laura, I feel it ; I can no longer 
breathe this air. I follow the wake of the other martyrs. 
Why have I been sent into the world if not to defend 
truth and justice? This, with God’s help, I will do. For 
this to live and die gives some significance to life.” 

“Just the way with you men!” said the Countess 
Schauenstein, trying to look angry. Unless you can 
wrangle and fight you are never at ease. Your task, 
my darling brother, ought to be to cool down your hot 
impetuous blood. Your eyes will sparkle more clearly 
when they no longer flash forth the fire of passion. Be- 
lieve me, the world is very much what we make it to our- 
selves. Even in the repose of the domestic circle you 
would become happy by contributing to the enjoyment of 
others. 


28 


TEE ROSE OF D1SENTI8. 


“I can never be happy, Laura, in a land where no one 
understands me, and I understand no one! love, where 
everyone loves only himself! Had not heaven given me 
you, I should be living in a desert. Happy, do you say ? 
Who then ever deserved to be so more than yourself, my 
love ? I know your wonderful husband. — Tell me the 
truth ; are you happy ? ” 

The young wife cast down her eyes, and answered with 
slight tremulousness: 

“Did you ever hear me complain of my lot? Why 
ask such a question now? I love my husband as a 
father. He has been a father to you, he is one to me ! 
Remember we owe him our education, that he took us as 
poor orphans to his bosom; that he sent you to study in 
Vienna at his own expense, that what he did — ” 

“ Enough ! Laura, enough ! ” rejoined her brother : 
“ Tell the whole, and not half the truth. What he did, 
he did for his own sake. Although old enough to be your 
grandfather, the aged dotard and millionaire was captured 
by your half-developed charms. You sacrificed to him 
what, at that time, you could not realize, youth, beauty, 
and the chances of a happy life. My God! had we only 
remained poor by the rocky banks of the Mavia ! Of 
course he had to take me into the bargain, although it was 
a terrible blow to his ancestral pride. He handed me, it 
is true over to the great Nesemann to be educated ; sent me 
to Vienna because he did not want to call a clod his 
brother-in-law; but how frequently and contemptuously 
has he reminded me of the cost ? ” 

“ The man who recounts his benefactions to us, crushes 
the flower and hands us the bare stalk. I gave him his 
stalk back : I paid him his outlay in hard cash, and we are 
quits. But I pity you, Laura. He cheated you of the 
choicest joy of womanhood; on the day he married you,, 
he made you a widow and your life a joyless wilder- 
ness — ” 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


29 


“Stop, Flavian, you are harsli and unjust! I am 
content. My husband is goodnatured, and more just than 
you are. In our lonely castle calm hearts dwell. In my 
solitude smiles a lovelier world than any you can discover 
in the wild and rushing cataract of human strife. Look, 
Flavian, but don’t smile incredulously. In solitude, to the 
pure heart, heaven and earth become a paradise in which 
one feels and sees God dwelling. The very leaves of the 
trees and shrubs speak peace to my soul as with the voice 
of angels. I hear wonderful music in the thunder of the 
waterfall, echoes of divine things, at least of things which 
have been divine, and will be so again. Time and eternity 
thus become identified ; my distant loved ones draw near, 
and even the sacred presence of the dead is felt.” 

“Dreaming again. Are your inspirations from John 
Paul, or Tieck ? ” 

“ Don’t call it dreaming, Flavian ! Believe me ! be- 
tween the great unseen and the visible world there is a 
closer and more mysterious bond than' ever your book- 
learning imagined, f The earthly is but the shadow and 
visible expression of the heavenly, which is perpetually 
appealing to us. You frequently wonder at what you call 
chance, and do not seem to imagine that an unseen and 
holy hand is guiding you. Have you then never recog- 
nized the image of your mother in this Rose of Di- 
sentis ? ” 

“My darling,” said the captain, looking somewhat 
coldly at his sister, “I really believe at last you are 
gifted with second sight. What ? Rose of Disentis ? ” 

“ Come ! I call thus the Alpine roses, whose petals, 
fashioned into a little garland, are to be found in the two 
medallions given, years back, by the Abbot Kathomen of 
Disentis to mother. Look, Flavian, when I put the chain 
of the medallion round my neck in the morning, it really 
at times seems to me as though I felt the kiss of my 
mother’s spirit ; I see her image on the pale red ground of 


80 


THE ROSE OF DI8EHTI8. 


the silken lining of the medallion, and it actually seems to 
acquire life and movement. ” 

For a moment the impassioned speaker was silent, stop- 
ped, and taking the medallion from her bosom, said 
“ Look yourself, look ! don’t you see her ? ” 

For a moment Prevost’s countenance relaxed into a 
quiet, sarcastic smile. It soon, however, wore a look of 
astonishment. In fact he really did detect the form of a 
female head in the pale leaves of the rose-garland. The 
border, formed of rhododendron leaves, actually looked 
like a portrait of his deceased mother. 

“ Strange ! and tolerably like,” he exclaimed : “ But,” 
said he, roguishly threatening his sister with his finger : 
‘‘ Laura, Laura ! you married, and still wear this ? Have 
you forgotten your mother’s words as she gave you the 
keepsake ? Do you remember how she said : ‘ I received 
this on the eve of my marriage from his grace the Abbot 
in Disentis. ‘ One of the medallions,’ said he, ‘ keep in 
memory of me, the other give to him to whom with thy 
love thou wilt give thy whole life.’ ‘ I gave it to your 
father. Again I give it to you, and with the same pur- 
pose.’ — What! Laura, you still wear it? You have not 
given it to the Count ? ” 

The Countess Schauenstein cast down her eyes some- 
what perplexed, and said: “he only asked for my life, my 
love, not for the medallion. He knew that for the sake of 
my mother’s image I prized it above everything on earth, 
just as you do yours. Does yours show her likeness in the 
fiowers ? I believe you have never once adverted to it. 
Do you still wear it on your breast ? Show it to me.” 

“ I have not got it just now,” he replied, as his counte- 
nance darkened. His sister remarked this, and closely 
scanning his face said : “Have you left it in your room? 
Come ! We will compare them.” 

“It is not there, Laura.” 

“Not there?” she repeated; looked at him with 


THE ROSE OF DISENTI8. 


31 


curiosity and astonishment ; saw him turn blushing away, 
and then laughed out, exclaiming: ‘‘Delicious! garland 
and heart gone then ? You naughty fellow, to conceal it 
from me who love you so well 1 Confess immediately, or 
I am your enemy for life ! In what part of Europe, during 
your zig-zag wanderings did you chance upon tlie charmer ? 
Speak! Is she Swiss? No, I’ll warrant, some beautiful 
English girl, or — have I guessed ? — a low-born Viennese ?” 

He took his sister’s hand, while his brow for a moment 
became clouded, and said : “ Come, here are the first 
houses of St. Maurice. It is hardly the thing to proclaim 
in the streets or market-place what one would rather con- 
ceal from oneself.” 

They walked into the village in silence : still, from tim^ 
to time, Laura looked up at her brother with a rogu]>'h 
expression and pressed his arm in silent tenderness. “ Well, 
Flavian,” she whispered, “ when we are alone you will tell 
me the fate of your rose, won’t you ? I can almost guess.” 
. “ Hum ! hardly worth the trouble of guessing,” h<^ 

replied, with a contemptuous curl of the lip. 

“ But you will really tell me all, won’t you? ” she said 
anxiously. 

“ The story would be a long one ! For my own part I 
have nothing to be ashamed of in it, but you must find me 
the right time and humor for speaking of things of which 
I only think with reluctance. No more questions, love I ” 


VIII. 


COUNT SCHAUENSTEIN. 


HEY stopped at a dilapidated, antiquated building. 



This was their hostelry. Opposite to it stood a low 
little church evidently at odds with the belfry which had 
once belonged to it, but which now lay off at an angle, 
leaning, like that of Pisa, over the beautifully-turfed 
churchyard, and apparently yearning for the rest enjoyed 
by the tombstones below. 

“ The Count has already asked for you a dozen times, 
captain,” said the buxom hostess, from the window. “ He 
wants to see you immediately ! ” 

Prevost immediately hastened up the steps and entered 
the Count’s room. It was a gloomy little apartment, 
panelled in pine, and half covered by the linen and clothes 
that were hanging against the walls. One third of the 
room was occupied by an enormous bedstead with huge 
pillows ; another third was taken up by an immense stove, 
and the remaining available space was appropriated by a 
table covered with papers, and an antiquated arm-chair. 

Seated here like an allegorical picture of winter, was 
Count Schauenstein, his head half-hidden in a black satin, 
fur-tipped cap, from beneath which peeped a few silver 
hairs over his sunken temples, his cheeks the color of ashes. 
His shrunken body was wrapped up in a loose fur-trimmed 
dressing-gown, and his feet encased in fur slippers. 

As he saw Flavian enter, he slowly removed his specta- 
cles with his bony fingers, raised himself slightly to greet 
him, and took up a letter. With a voice that at times 
sounded like the jarring of a dry axle-tree, he said; 


CO UNT 8GIIA UENSTEIN. 


33 


“ Important news ! Flavian ! The die is cast. Alea jacta 
est. On the 19th of October, that is the day before 
yesterday, the general commanding, Von Auffenburg, 
entered Graubiinden through the narrow pass of Luzien- 
steig, at the head of ten battalions and one squadron of 
imperial troops, in order to protect the land. He has pro- 
claimed, as was proper, the sacredness of life and property : 
but whether the council of war in Chur, in view of the 
French sympathizers, had any hand in the matter, remains 
somewhat doubtful.” 

The young captain of riflemen stood with clenched 
fists, flashing eyes and flushed cheeks. “Then the treason 
j is accomplished ! ” he muttered between his teeth : “ O, 

I the vindictive gang ! They will pay for their madness 
1 with tears of blood.” 

i “ War with France is inevitable,” continued the Count, 
i ‘‘ and it therefore seems a piece of good policy for Grau- 
j b Linden to have taken refuge beneath the wings of the 
I double-headed eagle. 

I “ Which will fly off with our liberties between his claws, 
unless unexpectedly cheated of his prey,” muttered Flavian. 

“ I don’t understand you, brother-in-law, said the old 
nobleman, who seemed to be somewhat hard of hearing: 
“ but take good advice. For a long time you have been 
one of the suspected in the country ; and your name, to my 
certain knowledge, is on the list of the proscribed. For a 
man of such talent this is a pity ! Turn round and make 
yourself serviceable to your country. Go to Chur, to the 
old seat of von Salis. For greater safety I will give you 
letters of recommendation. You are a captain of riflemen. 
Offer your services, without delay, to the council of war or 
to General Auffenburg. Should fortune smile upon you, 
you may become the glory, the pv(ßsi(liuTn, ct dulcc dccus 
of our family. War makes rapid promotion.” 

“You mean well. Count. I thank you,” answered 
the young man: “But I am in nowise inclined to become 


34 


THE ROSE OF DISENTI8. 


an instrument of the infernal game which is to-clay being 
played with nations and countries ; and am still less dis- 
posed to attain honor through the disgrace of my family.” 

“ To attain honor through disgrace ? What do you 
mean by that jargon ?” said the Count: “You are a Pre- 
vost, and allied with the house of Schauenstein. Never 
forget that.” 

“ I do not forget it.” 

“ Never forget that you yourself belong to one of the 
most ancient and noblest races in the land. Not the gen- 
ealogy of a Sails or a Planta stretches so far back into the 
past as your own. How often must I repeat to you the 
beautiful Latin record of the seventh century, which the 
learned a’Porta has preserved in his work? Yes, and 
I repeat it: Dagobert, king of the Franks, himself de- 
clared at Ysenburg, that the Prevosts or Praepositi, as 
they were then called, were descended from the ancient 
Homans ; that he gave in fief the brave knight Otto de 
PriBpositis the castle of Vesprau in Praegalla or Pregall, 
with suzerain rights from the Julierberg to the lake of 
Como. Flavian, when you remember that you are a Fla- 
vian de Praepositis, does it not fire your blood with the 
noblest pride?” 

Flavian de Praepositis quietly smiled at this speech, 
and to calm down the now excited nobleman said : “ Cer- 
tainly ! not with the noblest, but at any rate with yioble 
pride, despite the fact that I am only the son of a poor 
Pragalia farmer.” i 

“ Right! That is what I call rational talk ! A noble- i 
man, how much reduced soever, can never lose his nobilitv, 1 
just as little as a king like Louis XYIII. can lose his in- - 
herited divine right or his legitimacy, in the exile in which 
he is living upon alms. Blood is always blood. Con- 
sequently it was no mesalliance, as many thought, 
when I married Laura von Prevost. And you, Fl avian,, 
must recognize in it the direct intervention of heaven. 


CO ÜNT 8CHA UENSTEIN. 


35 


For that induced me to send you to Vienna to study. 
That obliged your uncle the confectioner to go to England, 
and put him in the way of marrying the wealthy widow 
Poole in Manchester, of becoming a childless widower and 
leaving his large fortune to you and your sister. W ell, 
what are you going to do now ? ” 

“To act in a manner worthy of my ancestors, that is 
supposing them to have been as upright and honorable as 
my own parents,” said Laura’s brother. 

“Nobly said,” replied the Count: “besides where a 
man is descended from noble stock, he has a right to pre- 
suppose every noble quality in his ancestors. Then I will 
give you a letter to-day to the Baron von Salis-Marsch- 
lius. To-morrow I shall return to my seat with my 
wife. I hate the turmoil of war. In another hour you 
shall have my letter.” 

“And I,” said the captain, “do not hate the turmoil of 
war, but I detest men who to curry favor with princes, 
betray and sell a free land and a deluded people. I will 
not put you to the trouble of writing a letter. In another 
hour I shall be on my road away from this. I shall Ic avo 
my unfortunate country. My motto is to live a free man, 
or die. — And therewith I commend myself to you. Fare- 
well ! ” 

Count Schauenstein stared at him with open mouth, 
and stretched out his hand as though to prevent him 
from going. Flavian gave him his, as though wishing him 
good-bye, and had left the room before the Count recovered 
his speech. 


IX. 


ULI GOm\ 

W ITH the same promptness, he packed up liis light 
knapsack ; slung it across his shoulders, seized his 
knotty stick and his green hunting-cap ; went to his sister 
and bade her an adieu in which his heart broke, however 
manfully he fought down the external betrayal of his feel- 
ings. 

The lovely woman clung weeping to his breast, when 
she found that her tenderest entreaties could not prevail 
upon him to defer his departure a single day. He made 
no secret to her of the danger he ran of being arrested as 
a friend of the banished patriots, or of being sacrificed to 
the blind fury of the mob. 

“But you are innocent,” she sobbed. 

“ No, Laura, I am guilty of the crime of loving my 
country ; of the crime of having associated with incorrupt- 
ible citizens ; of the crime of having raised my voice, 
like a free man, in unison with my convictions. What 
crime had been committed by the peaceable citizens who, 
only a fortnight ago, were maltreated in the streets of 
Chur and in their own houses ? They were threatened 
with death, when the council of war, with a mob of its 
own bribed peasants, armed with muskets, pikes and other 
weapons seized the city on a Sunday, during divine service, 
yes ! during the communion time ! ” 

Laura shook with terror, and pleaded no longer. An 
unaccountable dread of impending evil to her brother 
seized her soul. She withdrew her arms from around his 
neck, stood blanched as a marble statue, with her eyes riv- 


ULI GOIN. 


37 


eted on him. He embraced her once more, longer than 
he would have done ; whispered a last word of comfort to 
her, of which he himself stood in need ; promised to write 
to her frequently, and to visit her at her husband’s seat. 

“ And what has become of the Rose of Disentis ? ” she 
asked, smiling mournfully through her tears: “ Why will 
you carry away the secret with you ? ” 

“You shall know everything, love!” he answered: 
“ But I must be gone ; to-morrow I must be across the 
frontier. The day after to-morrow the Austrian bayonets 
will bar the road ! ” 

“Go! God be with you, my darling brother!” she 
sighed: “Kush into no danger, lion-heart ; your life is my 
life ! ” This said, she pressed him tenderly but passionately 
to her bosom, put him away from her; threw herself in an 
agony of tears upon a couch, and, with face averted, said ; 
“ Go ! ” 

lie went. He was indeed ashamed of the tears that he 
dashed from his cheeks, but not of his bleeding heart. He 
surrendered himself willingly, and in silence, to his great 
grief ; walked through the village without heeding the 
2>assers-by or noticing the splendor of the autumn day, 
which smiled on all nature. It was not before he saw in 
front of him the huts of the little village of Silvaplana 
nestled around the church, and half hidden by a projecting 
rock crested with trees ; and below, to the right, the placid 
lake into whose mirror-like surface the wooded tongues of 
the shore projected; then, as a background, at no great 
distance, the stupendous rocky flanks of the Alps crowned 
with eternal ice and snow towering above the clouds, that 
he recovered himself. The sublime spirit of Nature seemed 
to speak to him from the grand masses of the mountains 
rising one above the other, and to strengthen him ; the 
solemn silence of the immediate surroundings and the 
lonely majesty of the distant j^rospect seemed to impose 
silence upon his grief. 


38 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


He sped briskly up the craggy road over the Julier 
hills, running, as it does, between forests of stout Siberian 
cedar and larches ; until upon its summit, between the 
enormous masses of granite detached from the mountains, 
and gigantic blocks of limestone, the plant-world entirely 
disappears. There where to the right of the road the 
mysterious “ Jul” pillars stand in solitary silence, the 
work of unknown generations, and the snow-covered cha- 
lets of the Bergamasc shepherds were seen deserted by 
their great herds and long-haired dogs, the young man 
felt his own forlorn position, but at the same time felt his 
courage rise. He began the descent on the other side 
gayly, pushing forward towards his unknown fate; has- 
tened through the fearful pass of Alsmolins, past the cha- 
lets of Bazerol, where centuries before the three confedera- 
tions of Rhetia had joined in sworn treaty; and then, for it 
was getting late, towards the forest of Parpau. 

He pushed forward, a prey to the most conflicting 
changes of thought, feeling and resolve, without even 
noticing that night had set in, the driving snow-flakes, or 
the warnings of his craving appetite. 

“After all,” thought he, “is it not really enjoyable 
work to push one’s way through the storms and tempests 
of life, and delightful to play with fate when she seems at 
one time to lull us to sleep, and at another to terrify us in 
mere wantonness ? Driven from my country ; regarded 
as a criminal, though innocent; accused and cursed by 
men who hardly know me ; here I am again as much an 
orphan as I ever was at any period of my life. Yes, I will 
be myself, not what these semi-brutes want me to be, in 
order to please them. Let them kneel down and adore 
the deities, and the idols of their vanity, their grasping, j 
their lasciviousness, their superstition, their arrogance : 1 
will remain myself and have no other gods, but only God i 
himself. After all. death itself is but a change of worlds.’^ 


ULI GOIN. 39 

Wliile thus soliloquizing he heard a cheerful male voice 
ringing through the darkness: 

Bialla matta eis stada, 

Oben ussa butta pli ; 

Has sclian bitpar ils mets, 

A quei ei bona by.* 

Prevost, in a mood half pious, half misanthropical, won- 
dered at hearing, in an exclusively German neighborhood, 
sounds of a tongue which bore no resemblance even to the 
patois of the Engadine which he had just left, but belonged 
to those distant mountains lying around the east of the St. 
Gothard. In the meantime the singer came upon him 
looking in the darkness like a grey shadow, and shouted 
out in a lusty voice his “ good evening ! ” The man who 
greeted him drew up as though he would examine our 
traveller more closely or speak to him. Prevost, in no 
very good humor, attempted to pass beside him, but sud- 
denly felt himself checked by a powerful arm and heard 
the words: “ Halt, sir ! are you blind or am I ? or is some 
witch playing the fool with both of us ? ” 

Flavian tore himself from the grasp of his suspicious 
interrogator, raised his thorn stick and said: “Back, 
churl ! what do you want?” 

The other looked attentively and inquiringly into his 
eyes. He was a man of powerful frame, half a head 
taller than the captain. A sheepskin cloak hung from his 
bi-oad shoulders down to his knees, and a cloth over his 
head, tied under his chin, left only the half of his face visi- 
ble. “ The devil ! ” shouted the stranger : “ who would 
liave thought it ! What imp is driving you at this hour 
against snow and wind through the wild Lenzer forest, 
ca|)tain ? ” 

* Former beauty, wilful maiden. 

Has to-day but slender traces, 

Late you’ve learned that beauty cannot 
Stand the wear of youth’s embraces. 


40 


TUE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


“ Who are you ? ” said the latter. 

“Tut! tut! CanT you see? Uli Goin, body, bones, 
and soul,” answered the bear-like form : “Have you forgot- 
ten Hiezing and the poor devil you bought with hard cash 
out of the regiment there, and, after that was done, gave 
him twenty gold pieces to take him home ? But it is quite 
right, captain, quite right ! The memory of mercy should 
always be short, and that of gratitude leagues in length.” 

“ Uli ? ” said Flavian, stretching out his hand : “ Where 
have you come from, and where are you going so late ? I 
should think you would have preferred a snug place by 
the fireside in Rueras or Selva? ” 

“ The fireside keeps the skin warm, captain, but doesn’t 
fill the stomach. The Austrians are in the country, don’t 
you know that? I am carrying despatches. I have come 
from Chur, and to-morrow I shall be over the Julier moun- 
tain before the sun gilds his summit. Luck beats brains. 
I wanted to see you in St. Maurice and whisper some- 
thing quite quietly to you. And now I meet you here. 
So, left wheel! caj)tain, into the village of Lenz from which 
you have just come. We can hardly be a half mile from 
it. We can chat more comfortably in the inn there, than 
out here in the forest where one gets a snowdrift into one’s 
mouth.” 

“How did you know I was in St. Maurice, Uli? Have 
you any commissions for me ? ” 

“Not exactly that; but to others, captain, concerning 
you. Come ! Parpau, whither you are going, is miles 
away, and the road through the forest is easily lost. The 
pretty little hostess of Lenz will, I think, treat you to a 
better meal than the Marquis Malariva in Chur. I don’t 
trust the devil, even if he does hide his tail.” 

“Who? Malariva did you say ! He in Chur? Speak ! ” 
said the captain hastily: “ Where did you get to know 
him f ” 


ULI oom. 


41 


“Not here in this infernal storm ! Yon grease wheels 
to make them run, and treat the tongue to wine for the 
same purpose,” answered tlie giant stubbornly. This said, 
he took the anxious captain back into the village. 


X. 


DISCOVERIES. 

^‘XTALLO! Mistress Kitty,” shouted Uli Goin, as he 
entered the little inn : “ you are far too young to i 
remain a widow, so you must set your cap at the youngsters j 
when they come. Quick ! a bottle of the best, and a glass j 
for me ; then a good substantial meal for this gentleman, 1 
and a plate for your humble servant ! ” 

The pleasant little hostess greeted both the travellers 
with a hearty shake of the hand, disengaged herself from 
the arms of Uli, who was about to exact something more 
in the shape of recognition ; helped the captain off with ‘ 
his wet overcoat, and skipped away to attend to the orders 
of her guests. In the meantime, Uli threw off his dripping y 
sheepskin, disengaged his head from its wrapping, and : 
stood forth, a stately, model Hercules, in the traditional 
garb of the highland peasantry. Dark blue jacket, 
breeches and stockings ; scarlet waistcoat and the loosely 
worn black-silk neckerchief. Young and powerful, with ■ 
a dash of shrewdness in his handsome countenance, lighted ; 
up by two splenlid eyes, he was just the man to take the ' 
fancy while arousing the fear of a woman. 

Oatmeal soup, trout, polenta., and chamois stew were ^ 
soon smoking in bright, clean earthenware upon the ; 
whitest of tablecloths. The travellers fell to without the 
least delay. Even the captain checked his curiosity, and 
did not utter a syllable, until a good half of the viands ' 
had disappeared. He then turned his look from the plate 
before him to his companion, who was still exceedingly 
busy with his knife and fork, and said ; “ Don’t be in such 


DISCOVERIES. 


43 


a hurry, Uli ; take breath, man, and in the meantime just 
give me an idea of your errand.” 

“May heaven preserve me from the crime,” said the 
highlander, still eating, “ of filling my mouth with words, 
when there’s better stuff in sight ! ” and in accordance with 
this new view of matters, he did not stop until the very 
last morsel and last glass of wine had disappeared. Fla« 
vian ordered the decanters to be again filled, and ITli Goin, 
having stretched himself out quite comfortably, began : 
“You must allow, captain, the world has a more generally 
Christian look when the stomach has received its usual 
tribute. But eating and talking are about as compatible 
as thrashing and organ playing. You can’t make two 
kinds of porridge in one pot, at the same time. JSTow ask 
as much as you like, I’ve got more answers in my wallet 
than you have hair on your teeth. I’ll warrant.” 

“ In the forest, you spoke of a certain Marquis Mala- 
riva.” 

“ Then let what I said stop in the forest, captain, and 
his name as well ! ” said Uli looking cautiously in every 
direction : “ then you know the wretch ? Ah ! that throws 
light on matters.” 

“ What light ? Some year or so ago I saw the man in 
Vienna,” said Flavian ; “ but how did you get to know 
him?” 

“That is a little story, captain, that I don’t care to 
repeat. Thunder ! when I do, I blush down to my stocking 
feet. Even the padre knows nothing about it. But you 
are a young man yourself. You know well, youth and 
virtue are not sisters, and the brains wait for the beard. 
Well, when my time was up in the imperial service, at 
Presburg, I got my discharge. Tlie corporal’s rattan makes 
the soldier’s bread a great deal too salt. I immediately 
made for my home in our dear Bündner land ; but on a 
journey an empty purse is a greater burden than a full 
one. So I got no further than Vienna, or rather than 


44 


THE ROSE OF DI8ENTIS. 


Hiezing, where I engaged as servant to a farmer. It was 
there I met you, or rather God threw me in your way, and 
you took compassion on your poor countryman. You 
remember how when, with the lovely young lady on your 
arm, you asked me in the Luxemburg pleasure-grounds foT 
the gardener, and immediately made out where I came 
from ? And when, with hardly a rag to cover me, I told 
you my troubles, and that I could not get home, because 
without Moses and the prophets I could not find the way ? ” 

“Enough about that, Uli ! That’s not the question.” 

“Well listen, it is coming now ! You and your beauti- 
ful companion, you know, gave me a handsome sum. You 
promised me money for my journey, and brought it your- 
self to Hiezing, staid there a couple of days to examine the 
conservatory and botanical gardens, and paid my expenses 
at the big hotel there. When you left I went to Vienna, 
bought new clothes and picked up acquaintances in every 
direction. 

“ And — do not be hard with me. God reward you for 
what you did for me ! Even if I did not deserve it I shall 
be grateful to you as long as I live. You are one of the 
best men under heaven this night. But clothes make the 
man, and money makes the master ; get it and everybody 
is your friend. Among your fine bright guilders, un- 
fortunately there wasn’t one that would breed. I became 
unexpectedly poor again, as poor as a church mouse, and 
considered myself lucky when Nanny got me into the 
service of the Marquis Malariva.” 

“You are rather a chip, Uli. And, may I ask, who is 
the Nanny you refer to ? ” 

“A plump, artful wench, captain. There is not an- 
other like her in the world. She would make a lovelv 
shrine, if there was only something sacred inside. She lived 
in the Marquis’ house as chambermaid, housekeeper, general 
superintendent, and so forth. But, between ourselves, 
although I don’t want to boast about it, she liked me a 


DISCOVERIES. 


45 


good deal better than she did her own master, with his 
dried-up, yellow, Italian face, that looks cunniug and 
wicked enough for a fancy portrait of Judas Iscariot. 
Nanny told me devilish doings of his that would have 
taken any other honorable man to the penitentiary. But 
what was that to the pair of us ? We had the full run of 
the kitchen and cellar, and lived as well as we could have 
done in the richest monastery. He paid splendidly, and 
rewarded the worst deeds best. We lived, as I said, quite 
snug, in joy and splendor, and had a merry time in the 
devil’s quarters. 

“This did not last long. The Marquis thought I had 
taken the bait, and made me proposals — well, I dare not 
re: eat them. I had to swear to him to be as silent as the 
grave. If you give your word to the devil you must keep 
it. He turned me out of his service, but gave me money, 
and ordered me to leave Vienna immediately. Nanny and 
myself found we were not inseparable, so I took my pass- 
port for Bünden.” 

“ And you saw him again in Chur ? ” said Flavian 
impatiently. 

“ Saw him, sir, and spoke to him. He is come with the 
imperial' troops. As one of the clerks of the council of 
war was handing me letters to carry to the Engadine, he 
told me that the Marquis wished to see me at the White 
Cross, and give me orders. I stared. Holla, thought I, 
here he is like the cat, just where you don’t expect to find 
her. When he saw me he became wonderfully friendly,, 
cringed to me, asked a good many questions about one 
thing and another, and among the rest whether I knew 
you. He then pressed a hard guilder into my hand, gave 
me a letter to Samaden, and finally commissioned me to 
find out how long you were going to remain at St. Maurice. 
I was however to let you know nothing about his inquiry, 
for he said he was preparing a pleasant surprise for you. 
V^hile saying this, he smiled with the sweet expiession of 


46 


THE BOSE OF DISENTI8. 


a fox before a hen-roost. Ila ! ha ! thought I, some vile 
design in his head. But wait, thought I, wait, I’ve got a 
spoke to put in that wheel. 

“ By heavens, captain, you must vanish. They mean 
mischief with you. What a piece of luck that I met you 
here on the road ! ” 

“ I am conscious of no crime,” answered Flavian. 

“ People get out of the otter’s way ! I know you are 
as true a patriot as lives between the Rhine and Italy. I 
know it. But you have deadly enemies. They call you a 
Frenchman, a revolutionist, a traitor. A week ago two 
Ober-bazer ruffians shouted this out on the public market- 
place in Chur. I took your part, and the scoundrels 
wanted to make out that I was a Frenchman too; so I 
stopped their music by making the red gravy fly out of 
their dirty mouths.” 

At the remembrance of his exploits Uli became so out- 
rageously excited and fierce that he could not stop, and 
entered into a detailed account of all his fights. In vain 
did Prevost endeavor to lead him back to the main point. 
As he could extract nothing of any more consequence from 
the giant, he called the hostess, and asked for the bill for 
himself and his companion. The latter rose from the table, 
and as though he modestly wanted to prevent the captain 
from paying his share of the bill, he pulled a purse from 
his pocket and began playing with it between his fingers. 

The captain, for a moment, seemed to lose his tongue 
and his feet, as though by magic ; he stared wildly at the 
purse. He then snatched it from the hand of the high- 
lander, turned away, examined it over and over again, and 
muttered gloomily, “ The wretched, trifling creature ! ” 

The costly, green silk purse, with its gold rings, was 
covered with the most delicate embroidery : a masterpiece 
of feminine skill. One side of it was ornamented with a 
circle of rose-buds and forget-me-nots, within which could 
be deciphered the letters E. v. M. On the other side, 


DISCOVERIES. 


47 


upon a pale crimson ground, could be discerned a garland 
of bud leaves of the delicate Alpine rose, precisely similar 
to that in the medallion of the Countess of Schauenstein. 
The young man was evidently overpowered. At one mo- 
ment, he seemed as though he would throw the purse with 
disgust on the table, and yet kept it in his hand ; at an- 
other, he looked as though he was going to put a question 
to its possessor, but remained silent. 

The highlander, in the meantime, perceived the distress 
of the captain, which he took for astonishment, came 
smiling to his side, and said, “ I know it is a splendid 
jiiece of work ! But I only carry it when I put on my 
Sunday clothes, and want to do the polite.” 

“ Where did you get the purse ? ” said Flavian, with a 
slight tremulousness of voice. 

“ Ha ! ha ! ” answered Uli with a grin, looking waggish- 
ly at the widow. “ We ought not to talk of such things 
in the presence of a pretty widow.” 

“Well! you know, FTanny! When I had to foot it 
away from there, at any price, she wept bitterly, the poor 
girl, and gave me the purse as a keepsake.” 

“ And where did the girl get it ? ” said Flavian. 

“ Who can tell? There are a good many things that 
women and girls don’t write down in an almanac ; ask our 
little fairy of a hostess there.” 

“ What ? ” said the hostess laughing, giving our Goliah 
a poke in the back. “ You graceless churl, did your moth- 
er teach you that ? ” 

While they were thus joking and bantering one an- 
other the captain paced the room in silence. The tears 
started into his eyes. He pressed them back with his eye- 
lids and exclaimed in a low mournful tone: “The coquette ! 
the heartless thing ! ” — He took the purse, was about to 
tear it to pieces, but suddenly stopped, and said to him- 
self : “ Not so ! I’ll keep it as a reminder of my folly, and 
a warning for the future.” — He turned rapidly round to 


48 


THE ROSE OF DI8ENTIS. 


the Tavetscher, and said : “ Friend Uli, I want this purse ; 
you must let me have it; you can have the money, and this 
gold doubloon to boot ! That’s a bargain, isn’t it ? ” He 
threw the piece of gold on the table and shook out the 
contents of the beautiful purse. 

Uli Goin looked at him with amazement, pushed the 
piece of gold back and said : “ A good idea that, to pay 
me for the thing! Isn’t every nerve in my body your 
debtor ? I don’t know anybody but myself who is allowed 
to pay his debts with an empty purse. If you care for the 
purse, keep it, I shall like it all the better.” 

“ Take the money ! Good-night ! ” said the captain, 
pressing his hand. “ It has done me good to meet you 
again, Uli. Pleasant dreams. Hostess ; show me my 
room.” With these words, he disappeared, the hostess 
after him. Uli replaced the money in his pocket, eyed the 
piece of gold, and said quietly : “ Even kings raise their 
hat to gold I ” 


XL 


A LETTER FROM PATHOS. 



iHE next morning, Flavian had disappeared from the 


inn before any one was moving. We do not care to 
delay our narrative by relating how the political fugitive 
succeeded in getting across the Rhine, how he met other 
political refugees, and conferred with them in Switzerland ; 
how he arranged his financial matters with a business 
house in Basle, and finally reached Lucerne, at that time 
the seat of the highest Helvetian Authorities. 

We prefer, instead, giving a few of the letters which 
the young man wrote during the winter to his sister. 

“Why reproach me, Laura, with being unlike other 
people, and tell me that I never shall be ? Is that my 
fault or my creator’s ? Indeed I am almost ready to swear 
that there are different races of minds, just as there are 
difibrent types of men and species of animals. I don’t 
quarrel with you for calling me a hot-headed wastrel. I 
know I am that. 

“ At least I am so among these people, and really I 
cannot see what I have to do in a world in which I am 
constantly the victim of either hatred or deceit. If I can- 
not be with you exclusively, I never feel comfortable ex- 
cept when alone. I am solitary in my Patmos, and I feel 
more contented than I have for a long period. 

“ My Patmos, however, is an old mansion on one of the 
heights overlooking the lake of Lucerne, about a mile from 
the town itself. The lower portion of the house is occu- 
pied by an honest cow-herd, with his wife and children. 
He is here tending his master’s cattle during the winter. 


50 


TEE BOSE OF EISENTIS. 


He gets me cared for, fetches books or letters from the 
town for me, or takes them in. Beneath my windows 
stretches out the lake in gloomy repose, on the one side of 
which the towering sentinels of the Alps of Unterwalden 
stand with Pilatus at their head, in all his grim, weather- 
beaten majesty ; on the other the gorgeous semicircle of 
the marvellous glacier-crests of Uri. 

‘A am sitting at my window writing to you, filled with 
sweet emotions. The whole landscape, near and distant, 
is covered with its soft winter mantle. 

“ It looks like a dazzling silver-clad panorama. 

‘‘ It seems to me as though nature were holding sacred 
festival, inviting the heart of man to participate in it, and 
speaking in soft, low tones of the infinite and eternal, as it 
is not here below. I love the winter. It makes me more 
subdued, calmer, better ; summer makes me more giddy, 
impressionable and distracted. I could never live in a 
southern climate, let people praise it as much as they may. 
The northern climate it is, which by its severity compels 
endurance and privation, and consequently develops the 
higher qualities of body and soul ; while, by forcing men 
to live a great deal in-doors, it gives occasion to the great- 
er interchange of ideas, and thereby to higher intellectual 
development. 

“ It is for this reason that the northern nations are to- 
day the foremost on earth in art and knowledge, more civ- 
ilized, more inventive, wealthier. For the same reason the 
religions of the North are less ostentatious, but more intel- 
lectual : those of the south more earthly and sensual. Thus 
only in the north could Protestantism have taken root ; 
Catholicism never loosen its hold on the south. 

“ My every day life is so uniform — I was going to say 
monotonous — that I should almost prefer saying nothing 
about it. It seems to be to the course of my life what the 
dash is in writing. I read, write, dream. A little elderly 
gentleman, called Balthasar, keeper of the Lucerne library, 


A LETTER FROM PATHOS. 


51 


supplies me with the best productions of English, French, 
and German literature. I thus live like a spirit among 
spirits, learn and improve. /^I play with the children of 
my housekeeper, and, among them, I become like you, like 
what we ought to be ever, more innocent, more truthful, 
more natural. 

“ I feel, that with all our experience, knowledge and arts, 
if we do not become like them, there is no place for us 
above. Never has the comprehensive character of Christ’s 
saying appeared so clearly and forcibly to me as now. 

“ Betimes I call upon our young diplomatic agent in the 
town, in order to get what news I can from home, poor 
unfortunate home ; sometimes he gives me a call. But 
since the entry of the imperial troops into Graubünden we 
get very little news. The council of war at Chur violates 
the sacredness of correspondence without the slightest 
hesitation, and has seized upon the property of the ref- 
ugees. 

“ Our agent has been deprived of his rights of citizenship 
and outlawed. They have hung him in effigy because he 
is devoting his whole energies to induce the Swiss govern- 
ment to help the refugees. He said to me, the other day, 
with a smile, ‘now that I have nothing left in the world, I 
will w’ork for the world, and, as no one will help me, I will 
assist every one in my power.’ 

“I cannot make out where he gets his eternal flow of 
spirits ! He is young ; about my own age ; thoroughly 
educated ; beloved and courted ; but he lives with extreme 
economy, almost poverty ; whether for want of means or 
from principle it is hard to determine. 

“ He seems to me to be a kind of twofold personage, the 
exterior man being the most utter contradiction of the 
interior. 

“ He seldom gives one a glimpse of the latter ; I cannot 
divine whether he loves or despises his fellows most 
cordially. He is a born diplomatist : makes sacrifices and 


52 


TEE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


asks for none in return : can weep in private and laugh in 
public ; a real enthusiast internally, a polished man of the 
world externally ; like a mirror, changing color according 
to the object presented, but in itself cold, stark, unimpres- 
sionable. I describe him, because I am going to get you to 
address my letters to him. I shall thus be surer of getting 
them. 

“ I like him, and yet I secretly dread him. I feel as 
though I should like to unbosom myself completely to the 
seductive man, and am deterred by a species of unaccount- 
able mistrust. He is either impenetrable or ambiguous ; 
but he has seen through and through me ; and knows me 
as well as you do. Just imagine, the first time I made him 
a complimentary visit, he told me things which would have 
led you to believe that he had been made the depository 
of my innermost soul ; things which are as yet undeveloped, 
but might easily happen. 

“ He introduced me to the chiefs of the Helvetian 
government, and to the first legal advisers of the Republic. 
Their acquaintance may, at some future time, be of use to 
me. The man I liked best among them was Laharpe, a 
man according to my own heart ; noble and true to the 
backbone ; enamored of the great and good as it should 
be ; and possibly, for this reason not the best man for the 
situation as it is. I was struck too by the learned senator 
Usteri, a cautious, enterprising, moderate statesman ; and 
by the modest but energetic minister Stapfer. 

“ They are all equally lovers of what is just and true : 
all pursue the same end, the happiness of the people 
through freedom, and the freedom of the people through 
perfect liberty of opinion. But they pursue their aims by 
different ways.” 

“But enough for to-day. It is a blessing for us both 
that you are quietly nestled in your husband’s castle, and are 
not living in Bünden. We can at least communicate heart 
to heart, until we sec one another again in the spring.” 


XII. 


FATE OF THE ROSE OF RISE N'T IS. 

‘‘ reproach me, you unmerciful darling, 

▼ » even if I do deserve it ? Do you know any one 
living who is fond of disclosing his past follies ? However 
I will conquer myself to-day, satisfy you, and give you an 
account of the so-called Rose of Disentis, to which you 
attach so much importance. Its loss is certainly a greater 
distress to me than it is to you. I remember hut too well 
the hour when we received it from the hand of our dying 
mother, and both knelt by her bedside. 

“We were poor innocent children: I a boy of hardly 
seventeen ; and you had barely reached your fifteenth sum- 
mer. With the last breath of our dear mother the whole 
world seemed to have died to us. Baron Schauenstein, 
who in the years previous to her death, had, at the instance 
of the abbot of Disentis, taken an interest in her, also ful- 
filled the promise which he made to the departed; took us 
to his home, treated us kindly, and even got us a tutor. I 
suspect, however, that a fair share of the expense was paid 
by the worthy abbot of Disentis, the friend of our parents. 
These are only suspicions of mine, and I mention them in 
order to remind you of the singular combination of cir- 
cumstances at that time. 

“ For, had it not been for these circumstances, I should 
certainly never have gone to Vienna, where I lost the 
Rose. 

“ From the very outset, you know, you were the pet of 
Count Schauenstein. Eighteen months after, just as you 
were in the first blush of womanhood, he made you his 


54 : 


THE ROSE OF DISBNTIS. 


wife, and, as a matter of course, I had to go to the Uni- 
versity. Although nineteen years old, the amount of my 
acquirements was not absolutely killing. Study, at that 
time, was a matter of about as much indifference to me as 
marrying was to you. 

“ But the more I studied, the more I got to love study. 
Three years later, when ready for the high-school, I went ' 
to the imperial city. You sent your harp to me. As 
often as I took hold of it, it seemed as though I were em- 
bracing yourself. I impressed many a kiss on it, intended 
for you, knowing and suspecting as little as yourself into 
what difficulties it was destined to betray me. 

“ I rented a little attic in Vienna, and lived contented 
with my books, my harp, and my water-jug, although I 
was poor. The hundred guilders, which your husband 
sent me quarterly, were barely sufficient to meet the most 
unavoidable expenses. Fortunately for me, however, there 
were few things indispensable to me, because I had never 
accustomed myself to luxuries. For a long time, I felt like 
a stranger amid my new surroundings ; amazed at the pal- 
aces, splendid churches, sculpture and picture galleries, 
and zoological gardens. Every walk I took through the 
streets and squares, taught me something of which I had 
gathered a dim foreshadowing in books, but like which I 
had never seen anything in our mountains. Our poor 
country then appeared to me like an Indian desert. You 
will certainly remember the enthusiastic tone of the letters 
I wrote at that time. 

“ But while wandering like one intoxicated among the 
works of art, the public edifices, the new inventions, I 
became aware, with no slight astonishment, that despite 
all this, the men whom I met were no nobler and no hap- 
pier than those of our own bleak, poor valleys. Yes, I 
discovered, without the least trouble, that in point of honor 
and morality they stood considerably beneath our own 
countrymen. The latter are, in their rough nature, and 


FATE OF THE ROSE OF DI8ENTIS. 


55 


in tlieir better qualities genuine ; while the former, despite 
their acquirements, their arts, and their urbane display, 
are mere abortions of humanity. Their attractions, their 
ambitions, their selfish cravings and low desires are ail 
tricked out artificially; tliey conceal their consequent 
wretchedness by art, they are tricky without and within. 
Their very virtues are nothing but elaborate artistic efibrts 
for a momentary gain. They call this saooir vivre, civili- 
zation, progress. Whatever of what is in itself good they 
possess, — churches, schools, theatres, academies, museums, 
the marvels of architecture, painting, music, etc., are merely 
devices for money-making, luxury, ambition. Many a 
time, at the sight of these pretentious yet grovelling 
snares, of the callous profligacy of the higher classes, 
contrasted with the cheerless and helpless poverty of the 
lower orders, I felt as though I should have liked to fly 
into some solitude, where I might find, especially among 
the middle classes, real men, men of genuine, unsophisti- 
cated heart and mind. 

‘‘In your solitude, my dearest, the incredible corruption 
and debasement of both the low vulgar herd and of the up- 
per refined mob of capitals and large cities, are as much 
unknown to you, as they once were to me. I mention this 
only to give you an idea of what I underwent among these 
well-dressed phantoms. The consequence was that, at 
first, I made no acquaintances in Vienna, with the excep- 
tion of a few musicians who, from time to time, availed 
themselves of my harp and voice in the concerts they gave. 
I readily took part in them, because they afforded mo an 
opportunity of hearing, without any expense, the pick of 
our musical celebrities. 

“ I now come to that part of my story which I approach 
with great and ever increasing reluctance. 

“ One lovely summer afternoon I strolled out into the 
open country beyond the suburbs, for relaxation. The 
road was somewhat steep : suddenly there came dashing 


56 


THE ROSE OF DISEHTIS. 


along at a frightful speed, an exquisite single-horse car- 
riage. The liveried driver screamed to the people to stop 
the horse, which was completely out of control, as one of 
the reins was broken. Inside the carriage could be seen an 
elegantly-dressed lady imploring aid. Everyone jumped 
terrified on one side. I succeeded however in checking the 
mad brute, but broke one of the shafts in the operation. 
With my assistance, the driver, thoroughly unmanned, suc- 
ceeded in repairing it sufficiently to make it available un- 
til the city could be reached. 

“ The lady was on the point of fainting. I tried to calm 
her. ‘ For God’s sake,’ she said, trembling, ‘ don’t leave 
me yet.’ I had to take a place by her side in the carriage. 
She was splendidly attired, and although apparently high 
up in the thirties, she was, despite her embonpoint^ really 
beautiful, of majestic form and blooming complexion, with 
eyes that would have done credit to a J uno ! 

“ She said a great many obliging things to me ; hardly 
ever took her eyes off me ; informed me that I was not a 
stranger to her ; that she had seen me at concerts to which, 
she would have me believe, she was in the habit of going for 
the sake of hearing my voice and harp. While we were 
waiting in the suburbs for a cab, I had to give her an ac- 
count of my circumstances in Vienna, my lodgings, studies, 
etc. I made no difficulty about telling her candidly every- 
thing she wanted to know ; and learned casually that she 
was the widowed Baroness von Grieneiiburg. 

“ She only allowed me to go after I had accompanied her 
to her palace. A few days afterwards, a gentleman, who 
called himself Count Malariva, came to my attic with a 
message from her. He said a great many flattering things 
to me, and asked me to be good enough to call upon the 
Countess late the following forenoon. I never in my life 
chanced upon a more repulsive countenance than that of 
this man. The whole face which surmounted this tall, 
gaunt figure, played with the horrible, elastic ease of a 


FATE OF THE ROSE OF DI8ENTIS. 


57 


STiake, and there was not a single feature in it from which 
some hidden vice was not asking for recognition. It was a 
smiling Mephistophelian mask. Every word of his was, it 
is true, a civility, but his voice, as though it would avoid 
the lies of which he forced it to be the vehicle, at times re- 
sembled the bleating of a goat, however friendly the ex- 
pression he contrived to throw into his bilious countenance. 

“ In addition, his eyes were constantly turned on one 
side, without ever giving his interlocutor a chance of look- 
ing fairly into them. This Count may have been a man 
of some forty years more or less. I answered his civilities 
by returning them, and imagined that I might be deceived 
in the face of this man of the world, and that he might 
renlly be better than it led one to believe. 

‘‘ The next day, I went to the Countess : and demeaned 
myself with some perplexity on the highly polished marble 
floor of the reception-room, where a liveried servant met 
me and announced me to his mistress. Up to that time I 
had never had an opportunity of witnessing the lavish ex- 
travagance of the great in their own dwellings. 

“I was conducted tlirough a spacious saloon with crystal 
chandeliers, enormous mirrors, paintings, flower-vases and 
costly furniture, into a small, snug cabinet, at the door of 
which the Countess met me. 

“ After the first civilities, excuses, questions and answers, 
she broached quite another matter. ‘I expected more 
interest from the man who saved my life,’ she said with 
insinuating kindness; ‘but I waited three or four days in 
vain. If you appreciate your bravery so little that you 
can forget the bold act by which you saved me, I can not, 
and will not. 

“ ‘I wanted to see my guardian angel and thank him 
personally. To this I must add,’ said she, drawing me to 
her side on a sofa, ‘ however little it may redound to my 
credit, that you have, in me, placed under obligations a 
very exacting person. I am not at all satisfied with only 

3 * 


58 


THE BOSE OF DISENTI8. 


one sacrifice on your part. I should like to ask you for 
another, perhaps a greater one. You have informed me 
that you are without friends or acquaintance in Vienna. 
Will you consent to accept me and mine as such ? To talk 
plainly, my dear Mr. Prevost, I am a widow, and require 
much advice, service, and support in my position. I want 
a confidential friend to conduct my correspondence, to look 
after the management of my affairs ; to he my protector 
when travelling, and to afford me instruction and conversa- 
tion at idle times. 

“‘Count Malariva is, it is true, my protector and friend, 
but he lives at some distance from me, and is very fre- 
quently absent from Vienna. Let me ask you,’ said she, 
clasping my hand in hers, ‘ to be the confidential friend I 
need.’ 

“ This was the opening to a long conversation in which 
the Countess gave me the precisest information with regard 
to her circumstances and her wishes. Among the latter, 
she expressed a desire that, in my spare time, I would give 
her and her step-daughter, a certain Mademoiselle von 
Manuels, lessons in singing and on the harp. Whatever 
representations I made she overruled in the pleasantest 
fashion. The whole thing looked to me an agreeable 
adventure that ought not to be left unimproved. To be 
suddenly transported from an attic into a magnificent 
palace, from poverty into the bosom of the most unbounded 
wealth, could not but increase my limited knowledge of 
the world. 

“ The charms of the lady prevailed. I surrendered at 
discretion. I took up my abode in the Countess’ palace 
the same week. I was allotted a few splendid apartments, 
servants; received the books and accounts of my patroness ; 
doffed my poor clothes for a superb suit ; and exchanged 
my hermit’s habits for the society of the most brilliant 
people in the capital. 


XIII. 


CONTINUATION, 

XN my letters to you, at that time, my dear Laura, I did 
not conceal from you the fact that a most advantage- 
ous change had taken place in my circumstances ; still I was 
induced later, I do not know whether by a sense of duty, 
or shame, or fear of distressing you, to draw a veil over 
many things. Enough ! things gradually made my position 
more and more strange. 

“ The immediate friends of the Countess Grienenburg 
were her step-daughter and the Count Malariva. The 
latter was paying his attentions to Miss Von Marmels; was 
looked upon, in the house, as her future husband, and 
treated by the Countess as a son-in-law. 

“ Still Elfrida seemed altogether too young. She was 
but just sixteen years old ; and when the pair were together 
it seemed to me as though Belial were standing by the 
side of an angel. 

“Her proud, yet maiden-like form ; her features instinct 
with soul; her child-like sweetness of expression, would 
have compelled the admiration of even grey-beards, to say 
nothing of a young man like myself just twenty-five years 
old. I very quickly perceived that Elfrida had no notion 
of becoming the Countess’ pet, and that no day passed 
without little quarrels between them ; that the step-mother 
never lost an opportunity of playing off her powers of 
sarcasm and wit upon the step-daughter, and that the latter 
did anything in the world but endure them in silence ; on 
the contrary, although always in the most exquisite taste, 


60 


THE ROSE OF DI8ENTIS. 


still she resented this treatment with independence, firm- 
ness, and commanding dignity. 

“ The lessons on the harp I gave them alternately with 
great regularity ; but soon with the most opposite feelings. 
I always went to the Countess with a certain indefinable 
bashfulness. At her lessons, she was more confiding to- 
wards me ; at last even more roguish, flattering and be- 
witching, and all this with a heartiness and tenderness which 
my position forbade me from returning, and which forced 
me back unpleasantly upon myself. On the other hand, 
whenever I had to go to Elfrida’s room to give her a lesson, 
I always did it with a kind of sinking at the heart. How- 
ever unpretending my young pupil might be in her treat- 
ment of me, still her very friendliness always seemed like 
the condescension of a monarch. 

“ I looked upon her much as a Catholic enthusiast does 
upon his saints. Yes, Laura, she was lovely. But for my 
misfortune she every day became lovelier, and proportion- 
ately more distant, colder, and I might almost add aristo- 
cratically hauglitier towards me ; hardly as sociable or 
kindly as she was towards the men and women-servants of 
the house. It was a poor consolation to me that she treat- 
ed me in much the same way as she did the Marquis Mal- 
ariva ; that is simply dryly, confining herself to the ordinary 
forms of common courtesy. If by chance she happened to 
mention that she had previously seen me at concerts, or 
that my name Flavian pleased her, the singular condescen- 
sion enraptured me. And yet, our relative positions 
angered me, or rather I was annoyed at my involuntary 
self-abasement, and my humiliating dependence. I made 
an elfort, however painful it was, to recover my manly 
pride, and my independence. Consequently, I frequently 
demeaned myself with more carelessness and indifierenec 
than I really felt. 

“ My position was rendered no less painful and torturing 
by the extreme tenderness which the Countess Grienenbur'»- 


CONTINUATION. 


61 


finally evinced towards me. She was constantly giving 
tokens of a passion for me which I could not reciprocate. 
Her uniform complaisance, her little tender attentions, her 
presents, the play of her fingers, sometimes with my hands, 
sometimes with my hair, looked at first like pure toying 
and flow of spirits in which she allowed herself for a time 
to forget her womanly dignity. At last, what had at first 
appeared like the simple reflection of her light-hearted ness, 
became more earnest and deeper, in fact a complete and 
enthralling passion. 

“ As, one evening, I had sung a new piece and accompa- 
nied myself on the harp, she looked at me for a while in pro- 
found silence, with tearful eyes ; then exclaimed : * How 
can your voice be more tender and full of feeling than your 
soul ? ’ She threw herself upon my breast ; threw her 
arms around my neck, kissed me passionately on my cheeks 
and lips, while I, in the most atrocious perplexity returned 
her embraces with uneasy politeness, in order not to oflend 
her. 

‘‘ In the midst of her embraces I determined upon leav- 
ing a house destructive of my peace of mind. In my neces- 
sity I invented a lie. I pretended to tear myself away from 
her with simulated tenderness and despair, telling her that 
your husband had summoned me home, as you were lying 
at the point of death. She believed me and tried to com- 
fort me. I promised a speedy return to Vienna. Compas- 
sion only seemed to increase and ennoble her love. When 
she parted from me she said sobbing : ‘ Flavian, have 
mercy on me; do not be my murderer ; I shall never outlive 
your absence.’ 

‘‘ On the following day I immediately set to work at the 
somewhat extensive accounts of the Countess, in order to 
leave behind me an accurate statement of the position of her 
property and that of her step-daughter, which was quite 
equal to lier own. Everyone in the house had already 
learned of my intended departure. The Countess, thor- 


62 


TUE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


oughly mistress of all the arts of feminine rejDresentation, 
demeaned herself, before others, with the same perfect ease 
ai.d self-possession as usual. 

“ Elfrida, however, evinced a vast change when, at the 
accustomed time, I took my harp to her room to give her 
her lesson. On my entrance she started up from her chair ; 
barely returned my greeting ; turned away ; said that she 
did not wish to take a lesson to-day ; and, with her face to- 
wards the window, put her handkerchief to her eyes. I 
hesitated a short time, then respectfully took my leave. 
She called me back ; made one or two steps towards me 
and said : 

“ ‘ Then you are going to leave us ? ’ I repeated my lie 
to her. 

“ ‘ One more question ! * she said, after a pause. 

“ Her lip quivered, as though she were endeavoring to 
control an emotion of which she was ashamed. Then she 
continued : ‘ Mr. Prevost, tell me with the candor which 

is natural to you : Is it the thought of your sister, or dis- 
pleasure with us which has so much changed your manner 
of late? You are not as you used to be. Have you been 
offended ? Have I, perliaps, unconsciously hurt you ? I 
see it all. You are angry with me, and that is what is 
taking you away from us. You do me an injustice ! ’ 

“As she uttei-ed these words, I seemed to be suddenly 
transfused with a more than earthly glow. She saw my 
confusion, my blushing countenance, and while I was seek- 
ing for an answer, she stood riveted to the spot, with great 
tears in her lustrous eyes, gazing intently on me. She 
then threw herself into a chair, and made a sign to me to go. 

“ ‘No, Elfrida, no ! ’ I cried, more deeply moved, and 
less master of myself than she ; I knelt at her feet and took 
her hand : ‘ No ! how could you hurt my feelings ? If you 

were to kill me, I should still — ’ I could not utter the word, 
but she divined it. 

“ Our dialogue came to a sudden stop. I knelt before her 


CONTINUATION. 


63 


without any real consciousness, my lips pressing her hand. 
With the other she covered her eyes, although she was not 
weeping, and kept them long covered. She told me to 
stand up. I remained before her with downcast eyes. She 
finally brpke silence and said: ‘Now I am satisfied. 
And — ’ she added hesitatingly — ‘Now you will remain 
with us, — you won’t again talk of leaving ? ’ 

“ Thus she spoke. She again became suddenly calm. 
She smiled at me with the most confiding lovingness. She 
had understood me, and I her. This seemed to satisfy us 
both. There was henceforth not the slightest mention of a 
separation. We spoke of a hundred other insignificant 
things, but not a single word of love. It was as though 
bashfulness placed a bridle on the outburst of passion. Still 
the ring of every syllable sounded like the voice of two kin- 
dred souls. We chatted as we had never done before ; just 
like two cheerful children, who after a little falling out 
make it up and have a great deal to tell one another. She 
complained of the heartlessness of he¥^*^step-mother ; of 
the obtrusiveness of the hateful Malariva ; asked me to be 
her friend, saying she had not another in the world, except 
a young lady friend in Moravia. She was an orphan. On 
the other hand, I entertained her about Switzerland, the 
beauty of the Engadine, and about you, my dear Laura. 
Then she inquired about everything. Finally she pointed 
to the delicate chain of the medallion which you gave me 
made of your own hair, by your own fingers. She had re- 
marked it, long before, whenever, at our lessons, it used to 
show across my breast. She now asked. ‘ Is that the por- 
trait of the Countess Schauenstein ? Show me her dear 
likeness. Oh ! how I wish, poor girl that I am, I had a sis- 
ter such as you are fortunate enough to possess.’ 

“ When I showed her the Rose of Disentis, she looked at 
me with astonishment. And when I answered her silent 
question, — related to her the simple story of the medallion, 
and finished by telling her the last words of our dying 


64 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


mother : ‘Give this to her alone, to whom thy whole 
heart is pledged ! ’ — an incredible confusion came over me. 
I looked like one intoxicated into her beaming eyes. The 
medallion trembled in my fingers. I handed it silently to 
Elfrida, and my eyes fell upon the ground. SKo took it. 
IIow explain our emotions? I could not look up at her. 
She did not utter a syllable. She merely placed her hand 
upon ray shoulder, and laid her brow against my beating 
heart. It was a silent but eternal compact. My God! 
what a moment ! And as I gradually came to from a 
trance which it is not given to words to describe, be it 
rapture or unconsciousness, we were clasping each other'’s 
hands, and lip to lip we seemed to be breathing in each 
other’s very soul. 

“ Elfrida quietly put me away from her, with a look as 
though astonished both at herself and at what had hap- 
pened, and stood before me Avith flushed cheeks, but with 
heaven beaming from her eyes. We said not another 
word, pressed each other’s hand, and separated. I went to 
my room like one overcome with wine, and could not be- 
lieve my senses. 

“ What more shall I say to you, my dear Laura ? You 
now know everything. Shall I tell you I remained there ? 
That I got out of my fresh difficulty by another falsehood, 
stating that your health had, to my great joy, much im- 
proved ? But, let me tell you, henceforward my position 
between mother and step-daughter was only all the more 
dreadful. I was both a supremely happy and yet a 
wretched man. No one in the house had any suspicion of 
the atmosphere in which I lived, suspended as it Avere 
between heaven and hell. Could any good ever come of 
all this ? I could no longer endure a life in which I feared 
my reason would give AA’ay, and still I knew not hoAv to 
free myself. Fly? Why ! I loved Elfrida to desperation, 
was I to break the heart of that angelic child and my own 
too? Then, conscience revolted against the duplicity 


CONTINUATION. 


65 


which I was practicing, and had to continue. I felt the 
almighty power of my first and only love, and I was the first 
and only love of the maiden. Was I still heedlessly to 
feed a flame, w^hich I had heedlessly kindled ? I knew 
only too well that, in my position, Elfrida, with her noble 
descent and wealth, could never be mine, unless I chose to 
bring upon me the curse of a seducer or an abducer. 

“ Again : the Countess and her passion so hateful to me. 
Was I to become a cold-blooded hypocrite : put up with 
her presents, her tenderness, I ought to say, her seductions ? 

“ I acknowledged my position to Elfrida. I told her all. 
This much I owed her. It did not cost me a struggle. I 
was determined to be pure in her eyes at least. As the 
unexpected news came upon her, she stood with her hands 
spasmodically clasped. One moment she was pale as 
death, the next flushed ; now her countenance seemed pet- 
rified with astonishment ; the next an expression of disgust 
and contempt swept across it ; at one time her eyes looked 
dead and expressionless, at another they were flashing 
with suppressed anger. Her first words were: ‘The 
miserable woman ! And I — I am supposed to call her 
mother!’ Then, after a short pause, she turned to me 
and said: ‘My dear Flavian, I am more unhappy than 
you; this misfortune shall never bend me; at the worst, it 
can only blast my whole existence; I only ask you for one 
more sacrifice ; a sacrifice of three, four or five weeks. 
Remain in this wretched house that long. Perhaps in the 
mean time, I may get counsel from a beloved and clear- 
headed friend of mine ; the only one I have, and whom 
I fully and implicitly trust. 

“ ‘ She lives on her property near Brunn, in Moravia. 
It is no such very great distance from here. I will write to 
her to-day. My friend will not leave me without an answer. 
You must wait. It is not necessary to ask you to have 
courage; but let me recommend caution. My hopes, it is 
true, are not great. This dreadful war I In any case you 


66 


THE ROSE OF DISENT18. 


must no longer breathe the same air as the Countess of 
Grienenburg.’ 

“ While thus speaking, the delicate creature stood before 
me, resolute, apparently calm ; but her cheeks were a deep 
crimson, and her eyes flashed fire. I promised compliance, 
and endeavored to stem the wild emotions of her soul. She 
scarcely appeared to hear me. Then followed a long pause. 
Looking at me with her beautiful eyes, full of sadness and 
inexpressible love, she said, ‘ Yes, Flavian, I am more 
wretched than you. Believe me, your poverty does not 
involve you in so much distress as my wealth does me. 
LTnfortunately I am but a helpless girl. You are a man. 

“ ‘ You are an orphan, like myself, but you have a sister’s 
loving heart to cheer you in this dreary world. I have 
neither^ brother nor sister, I am an orphan every where ; 
under heaven I have found no protector save you alone. Be 
my brother, absolutely, until death ! You have promised 
me you would, and given me the most sacred pledge of it, 
your Rose of Disentis. Do you know ? ’ — and while she 
spoke she drew the medallion from her bosom — ‘ I will 
give you a gage myself. It is my own work. Should 
fate separate us, nothing shall sever me from you. I will 
be ever and entirely your sister, quite as much as ever your 
sister Laura could be. And even if we are separated in 
body, think of this my pledge, — this is my Rose of Disen- 
tis — think of this moment, and of this my word. 

“ ‘ From the outset I have honored the nobility of your 
mind and character, and now I love in you a brother whom 
God has placed in my path. — Oh ! what a name ! Brother ! 
Flavian ! think of my faithful, loving sister’s kiss.’ 

“ She clasped me in her arms. We swore eternal fidelity. 
Elfrida was all flame. Her bosom heaved rapidly, her lips 
were on fire. She suddenly stepped back, and with averted 
face gave me a sign to leave her. I went. 

“ Her gage, however, which I felt in my hand, was a 
green silk purse with gold rings, on the inside of one of 


CONTINUATION. 


67 


■which were the initials of her name, on the other my own. 
On the outside of the purse was a beautiful copy of the 
medallion I had given her, embroidered in the most ex- 
quisite manner ; opposite to it, E. v. M. worked in her own 
hair. 


XIV. 

CONCLUSION OF THE LETTER. 

“ II TORE than once, my dear Laura, I have bounded up 
irl. from the table while writing this letter. I would i 
more cheerfully confess a crime than have to tell what is 
contained in this long letter. 

“ I have forever lost my faith in humanity, and can never 
recover it. You are the only living soul in the world 
whom I can trust now. Beyond yourself, I have never j 
loved any mortal with the spotless intensity of my love for 
her who at that time called herself my sister. And I, 
blind fool that I was ! allowed myself to be dazzled by i 
the bewildering loveliness of this false, fickle girl, and j 
broke my heart in the venture. But you do not yet know | 
all. Here it is in a few brief strokes. : 

“On a certain day, I noticed a perceptible change in i 
every face in the house. The evening before, one of the | 
young waiting-women had been dismissed and sent out of | 
the house. At a late hour I had heard voices engaged in 
loud conversation, and detected distinctly the voice of the 
Countess and of her step-daughter. Not only the men and 
maid servants looked at me with singular and mysterious 
glances, but even their mistresses became exceedingly 
earnest, reserved and taciturn. The Countess of Grienen- 
burg sat at breakfast, usually a very chatty meal, thought- 
ful, cold and forbidding. 

“Elfrida never even condescended to look at me. Her 
eyes were red with weeping, her cheek flushed as though' 
with silent, suppressed anger. I tried to engage them in 
conversation. In vain. It was immediately dropped. 


CONCL USION OF TUE LETTER. 


69 


Finally, I modestly inquired what had so suddenly damped 
the spirits of the ladies. The Countess shrugged her 
shoulders; Elfrida rushed out of the room. Just then 
INialariva came in to pay his morning visit to the ladies. 
The Countess spoke freely to him, without losing her dis- 
tressed expression. 

“ I too, addressed him with my usual courtesy. He, as 
a rule, the most would-be pleasant and agreeable man in 
the world, turned his back upon me with a kind of sullen- 
ness, or rather disgust, and left me standing where I was. 
I nearly lost all control of myself, and demanded an expla- 
nation. The Countess drew Malariva away to a window 
at the other end of the room, in order to speak in private 
to him. 

“ It was clear that during the night the whole household 
had turned against me. The reason for this change was 
inexplicable to me. I imagined, with horror, that the 
Countess had discovered my relation to her step-daughter. 
Jealousy, family pride and rage could alone explain such 
a violent and sudden revulsion. 

“I went to my room and brooded over a thousand hate- 
ful possibilities. 

“ In the evening I was in hopes of seeing Elfrida, as she 
was the only one from whom I could hope to get the clue 
to the mystery. I hoped in vain. The ladies did not 
appear the whole day. They did not come to table, and 
sent to say that the usual lessons would not be taken. 

“ Still, I prevailed upon one of the waiting-women tO' 
beg Elfrida to grant me an interview, if only for one mo- 
ment. It was refused. Think of my fury ! 

“ The next morning, I received a note from the Countess, 
enclosing fifty ducats, conceived in nearly the following 
terms : ‘ Mr. Prevost is requested to leave the mansion of 

the Countess Grienenburg without delay, after having 
delivered over to the Marquis Malariva his accounts, j ust 
as they are, in whatever state they may be.’ 


70 


TUE ROSE OF DISENTI8. 


“ For a time, I was as though thunderstruck, unable 
either to think or act. I once more tried to get an inter- 
view with Elfrida, then with the Countess herself. I 
wanted some light thrown upon their conduct towards mr, 
whatever the case might be. I was refused admission. A 
half an hour afterwards the Marquis entered my room to 
demand the documents belonging to the Countess. I gave 
them to him and begged him, for God’s sake, to give me 
some idea of the reason for such treatment. 

“‘lam not commissioned,’ he replied coldly, ‘ to give 
you information upon matters with which you are probably 
better acquainted ^than I am. You will excuse me if I 
decline to meddle, in any way, in the concerns of other 
people.’ 

“ Thereupon he took the books and went away. I was 
furious at this contemptuous treatment, and equally furious 
with myself ; for, unfortunately, I did not feel perfectly 
blameless. Cursing the whole world, I packed up my few 
things in a valise, left the various presents of the Countess, 
and her fifty ducats behind, and betook myself to my old 
attic. 

“ Here I formed a hundred crazy plans, and adopted 
none, as a matter of course. For while undergoing wild 
agony of mind, I knew that I was capable neither of ra- 
tional reflection, calm purpose, nor deliberate, solid judg- 
ment. In order to hasten the recovery of my faculties, I 
adopted the surest of all methods ; avoided solitude, 
sought distraction, despite my aversion to it; spent my 
time in running through the city and suburbs, the Prater 
and meadows; frequented theatres, churches, coflfee-houses. 
This lasted three days. I conquered myself. I was my- 
self again. 

“ I wrote now with something like composure to Elfrida; 
besought her to explain what had happened; reiterated the 
solemn expression of my love; and assured her that even 1 
if I had deserved the contempt or anger of her step-mother, 


CONCL USION OF THE LETTER. 


71 


I had at least given her no reason to spurn me. In- 
stead of an answer, my letter was returned unopened. 
On the back of it was written in Elfrida’s own hand : 

‘ Returned, as all similar ones will be, E. v. M.’ 

“ In my fury, I tore it in pieces, swore I would forget 
her, and became calmer. Late in the evening a hired 
porter brought me my harp which had been left in her 
room, and to my amazement, he was soon after followed 
by the Marquis Malariva. I was glad he came, although 
he professed only to have come in order to see the harp 
safely delivered. If now I behaved with more than usual 
cordiality towards the hypocritical wretch, it was only in 
order to try and drag out of him some expression which 
might throw a little light on the causes of my disgraceful 
expulsion from the mansion. 

“‘You will understand, Mr. Prevost,’ said he, ‘ that I can- 
not remain long with you here without arousing the suspi- 
cion of the central police. You are a young man of mind 
and information, and I would willingly have made our re- 
lations intimate. You, however, constantly rebuffed me. 
The present is not the time for reproaches. I have to make 
a most earnest request as a friend, that is, for you to leave 
Vienna and the Austrian Empire as speedily as possible. 
Tills request I have, too, to make on behalf of Miss Von 
Manuels, whom you have plunged into the deepest distress. 
You will readily pardon these two ladies if, mindful of their 
own honor, of their duty to the emperor, and in view of their 
own safety, they forever break off every relation with you, 
and you will not take it ill of the Countess if she will not 
court the scandal of having her house filled with police, and 
even her papers put under seal on account of her former 
acquaintance with you. She was warned in time by an el- 
evated personage ; and I may inform you that it cost the 
Countess Grienenburg no small sacrifice to dismiss you. 
Think of your own safety, and I warn you to do it without 
delay.’ 


72 


THE ROSE OF DISENT18. 


“ For a long time I stared in blank amazement at Mal- 
ariva, and could not believe my own ears. ‘ I don’t un- 
derstand a single word of all you say to me ! ’ I exclaimed : 
‘There must be some frightful misunderstanding here. 
Have the goodness, Sir Marquis, to wrest me from this 
damnable bewilderment. What ! Am I then a criminal ? 
How, in the name of God, have I come by this reputation ? ’ 

“ The Marquis shrugged his shoulders and said : ‘ It 
was certainly a surprise to me : possibly by the expression 
of your views upon the questions of the day ; perhaps 
through your connection by men whose revolutionary ten- 
dencies have brought them into odium with the govern- 
ment. 

“ ‘ All this you doubtless know better than I do. Follow 
my advice, and heed the appeal of the broken-hearted Miss 
von Marmels. I have nothing more to say to you.’ 

“ ‘ I am conscious to myself of no crime whatever,’ I 
answered, ‘ and shall remain in Vienna, whatever befalls. I 
owe it to myself, and still more so to the honorable family 
whose excessive kindness has laid me under so many obli- 
gations.’ 

“ ‘ My justification will and must he that of the Countess 
Grienenburg for having done me the honor of her society.’ 

Just as you like,’ replied the Marquis ; ‘ You have 
heard my advice, you are aware of the wish and request of 
Miss von Marmels. You despise both. Perhaps you have 
something better to propose.’ 

“He went as far as the door, but suddenly turned round 
and said, ‘ One more request ! I had almost forgotten it ! I 
have still a commission on behalf of Miss Von Marmels ; 
I execute it without any circumlocution, and the rather in 
the lady’s own words, in order to avoid any personal respon- 
sibility in the matter. ‘ Inform him once for all,’ she 
said, ‘ that I wish him not to annoy me with his letters, 
nor to compromise me in the eyes of the public. After 
such behavior he has forfeited my respect. I can only 


CONCLUSION OF THE LETTER. 


73 


pity him if he will insist on bringing disgrace and ruin 
both on himself and others. He has deceived me and every 
one else with whom he has come in contact.’ 

“ ‘ Is that really her message, word for word? ’ I almost 
shouted with rage ? 

“ ‘ I can give you my word of honor that such is the 
case,’ said the Marquis with firm composure. 

“ ‘ Then I have only one more request to make ! ’ I re- 
plied with terrible emotion, taking out Elfrida’s green 
purse, which I had wrapped up and sealed, and handing 
it to him : ‘ Be kind enough to hand over this trifle to 
Miss von Marmels ; it belongs to her. It is possible the 
young lady is in some trouble at the idea of such a thing 
being in my hands. I will spare her any such reasonable anx- 
iety. The paper has not a syllable written on it ; it is a 
mere wrapper.’ — The Marquis raised many difficulties at 
first ; but finally consented to carry out my wish, and left 
me. 

“ How shall I describe, Laura, the state of my mind at 
that time? I must leave you to conjecture it. My life was 
crushed out of me. That Elfrida should have so suddenly 
turned against me, because I had innocently drawn upon 
myself the suspicion of the Austrian government ; that she 
should have cast me off, so as not to encounter unpleasant- 
ness in the higher circles of society ; that I could be indif- 
ferent to her even were I a state criminal — all this was to 
me utterly inconceivable. 

“ My every thought ended in a curse upon the heartless 
sex to which she belonged. She had won an unsuspecting 
heart only to tear it to pieces. She had never loved me. 
I hasten to close this narrative. I will be brief. 

“The next day I was called upon by three or four 
police emissaries. My things and papers were packed up, 
sealed, and carried ofi*. I was myself arrested. At my 
examination, I was asked singular questions touching my 
connection with people in Paris, or with French generals 
4 


u 


THE BOSE OF BI8ENT1S. 


and troops in Italy. I was made, at a dinner given in the 
Prater, to have held seditious and revolutionary discourse, 
and even to have insulted his imperial majesty. I did remem- 
ber a little festive doing we had in the Prater, and admitted 
that I might have expressed myself somewhat freely under 
the influence of champagne : but I scornfully denied the 
malicious slanders which had put into my mouth toasts to 
the success of Bonaparte’s arms, and other villanies which 
had been laid to my charge. Witnesses were adduced : 
the noble Marquis Malariva was called. This was then 
the man ! This was the villain who was, and had been, 
planning my destruction ! Everything was now clear to 
me. What had he possibly not said in the way of low, 
infernal calumny to the Countess Grienenburg and to Miss 
von Marmels. 

“ I defended myself without fear and without reserve. 
A few ideas that I had dotted down upon the necessary 
moral reconstruction of Europe, upon the imprescriptible 
rights of nations, and even an ode to liberty, were put in 
evidence against me. These had been found among my 
papers. I acknowledged myself as the author without 
hesitation ; but submitted that such fugitive thoughts 
jotted down at odd times did not look very much like a 
crime against public order or like high treason. 

“ After an imprisonment of eleven days, I was again 
brought before the courts. I received a stern reprimand ; 
was ordered to leave Vienna within four and twenty hours, 
as well as to quit the empire ; I got my passport with the 
prescribed route indicated in it; finally, I got my effects 
and an opened letter from your husband, informing me of 
the death of my aunt in Manchester, and of the earnest 
wish of my uncle that I should come immediately and 
help him to settle his affairs. The letter contained a hand- 
some sum for travelling expenses. 

“ This was my farewell to Vienna. I wished to get my 


CONGL U8I0N OF THE LETTER. 


Y5 

draft cashed, and consequently went to the hank, followed 
by a police officer. 

“ Now for the last mad freak of fortune in Vienna ! 
J ust as I was leaving the banker’s, whom should I meet in 
the waiting-room but the Marquis Malariva. 

“ He was about politely to give way to me. But I pulled 
him quietly towards me, and whispered in his ear: ‘Mar- 
quis, I now know you for an accomplished ruffian, from the 
crown of your head to the sole of your foot ! ’ In his fury 
he became a kind of greenish-yellow, and treated me to the 
vilest epithets current among jail birds. I gave him a 
blow that sent him reeling, and stood expectant. He 
looked at me with the glare of a basilisk, and showed his 
teeth like a wild beast. 

“ I turned my back on him, went my way, and left 
Vienna at night. 

“ You know the rest. I left Vienna, where I had lived 
three years, full of grim bitterness, and with my faith in 
mankind utterly shaken. My journey to England some- 
what distracted me. At that time Moreau was in Bavaria 
at the head of his victorious republican legions. I had 
consequently to go around by North Germany. When I 
got to Manchester, I found our widowed uncle sick. I 
tended him eighteen months, until finally he died in my 
arms. As soon as the indispensable law business connected 
with his will had been settled, 1 flew to you, Laura. 

“I shall never forget that third of September, your 
birthday, when, after a long absence, I held you to my 
heart in your husband’s castle amid the lovely scenery of 
the Rhine ! 

“ The only world I cared for I embraced in you. Who 
would have dreamed when we had to accompany your hus- 
band to the springs of St. Maurice, that the madness of 
political factions would so soon sever us again ? 

“Now you know everything, Laura. Ask me now no 
more. Could I but wipe out of my memory this blighted 


76 


THE ROSE OF BISENTIS. 


tale of misfortune ! I must add ; Elfrida did not take back 
the purse I sent her, but gave it to one of her menials. It 
went from hand to hand, until I got it again myself from 
a Bündner peasant, who had been in the imperial army.” 


XV. 


LAST LETTER. 

“ THITHER, Laura, I will fly from the turmoil of the 
world into some secluded, friendly spot, far from 
the daily spectacle of civilized degradation, masked vice, 
and peace-killing prejudices: — to a spot where, surrounded 
by the w^orks of the best and wisest men of all ages, I can 
live with uncorrupted even if ignorant men, and in this 
narrow sphere, spend myself in doing good, instructing, 
comforting, making happy, — and thereto I am in want 
neither of the means, nor the will ; or, I will throw myself 
boldly and confidently into the present struggles of the 
nations as an angel of vengeance ; I will help to burst the 
bonds, and to dash in pieces the hoary idols of the nations ; 
to exorcise the powers of hell which to-day are making 
their eternal war upon truth and justice. And for this I 
want neither inspiration nor courage. And should I fall 
in the struggle for the divine, then it will be a divine death, 
and a fitting termination to my life. 

“ Here, my dear little sister, you have my alternative as 
an answer to your last letter. 

“ Do not you misjudge me like the common herd, which 
calls everyone a visionary who will not fall in with its views, 
but lives and dies for. something nobler than gold bags and 
stomach, baubles and titles. You know indeed how human 
madness has turned the world upside down ; how princes 
no longer live for the people, but nations are supposed to 
live for them ; how virtue stands unfriended, reason under 
the ban of the churches, the eternal rights of man a peril to 
their defenders. You are aware, too, that the friend of lib- 


78 


THE ROSE OF DISEIsTTS. 


erty is, in the eyes of statesmen, a traitor, an<i in the eyes 
of the churches, he who doesn’t believe in the devil is held 
to blaspheme God. 

“ You are aware, too, that the arts and sciences are con- 
sidered almost valueless for their own sake, and are looked 
upon simply as tools of luxury, and are appreciated only so 
far as they are the slaves of wealth, fashion and vanity ; that 
the majority of men smile upon their fellows like incarnate 
lies, because rectitude is no longer held in honor. 

“ Laura, a hurricane is sweeping over the nations, and 
it is called revolution. It is sent from on high to purify the 
moral atmosphere surcharged with deadly miasma. It is 
not, as our diplomatists, priests and learned moles would 
have us believe, the result of free-thinking and writing on 
the part of a few men ; it is the product of the eternal order 
of things generated for the punishment of universal degra- 
dation. 

“ The heroes of Bonaparte’s battles, craving for their 
blood-stained laurels, have become the modern Attilas of 
Europe, and France has become, in the hands of fate, the 
“scourge of God” upon the backs of our barbarians both 
high and low. 

“ Such is my political profession of faith. I am rather 
on the side of the “ scourge of God,” not because I like it, 
but because I revere it as the work of God himself. 

“ The French are at least the champions of the real inde- 
pendence of the human mind, even if they are at present 
behaving like furies. The proverb says that wine and 
childhood are truthful. The cyclone will finally spend its 
strength, and we shall see a new world rise from the ruins 
of the middle ages. I grieve as much as you do at the 
sufferings of our country; but in the crucible of sufiering it 
will become more powerful, noble and free. 

“ Do you read the newspapers ? Do you see how the 
nations are awaking ; are beginning to open their eyes ; 
how the lips hitherto mute are learning to speak ? 


LAST LETTER. 


79 


“This is February. Before the cherry trees are in 
blossom, the war will break out afresh more terrible than 
ever. For the Archduke Charles stands in readiness on 
the Lech. From the North the wild and unknown hordes 
of Asia and Russia are swarming forward. Suwarrow, the 
man who has won the reputation of an accomplished butch- 
er on the battle-field, leads them on. I now come to the 
point, Laura. Yesterday I was at Lucerne. The French 
are ready for war. Their first step will be against our poor 
Bündner land, in order to drive the Austrians out ; to 
secure the mountain passes on the right and left towards 
Switzerland and the Cisalpine Republic, and to open up 
the entrance to the Tyrol before the combined forces of 
the Archduke and Suwarrow can reach them. The malu 
attack will undoubtedly be made by Massena at Luziens- 
teig, while Loison will threaten them from the heights of 
the St. Gothard, Lecourbe southward towards the Enga- 
dine and Tyrol, and Demont from the Kunkeler Alps. 

“ If, as hitherto has been the case, fortune favor the 
republican standard, the tide of war will quickly roll far 
away from our valleys. Everyone who loves his country 
should, at the present moment, work for this consumma“ 
tion, I most certainly will. 

“ We shall not be free, it is true, even supposing every- 
thing goes well. France will, for many years, want to 
keep Switzerland as her wicket into Germany and Italy, 
the Parisians, as you are aware, call all door-keepers Swiss. 

“ But our mountaineers will only learn to love freedom 
all the better for a little pressure ; and as they have now 
burst asunder the toils in which they were held by the 
nobles and clergy, they will certainly, sooner or later, 
throw ofi* the domination of France. The whole of Europe 
will demand, and, if necessary, compel it. Of that I am 
sure. 

“ By accident, I met General Demont, the other day, in 
the city, where he was only staying a short time. I was 


so 


THE ROSE OF D18ENTI8. 


told that he belonged to a family in Pilla in the Lugnetzer 
valley. I called upon him, and offered, upon the breaking 
out of war, to serve upon his staff as a volunteer. He 
received me in a very friendly manner as a countryman of 
his, but told me that with my knowledge of the country, 
he thought I should be more serviceable to General Loison. 
That the task allotted to Loison was one of the most dan- 
gerous of all. I don’t care with whom I serve so long as 
my design succeeds. The general has therefore given me 
a letter to his companion-in-arms, who is at the head of 
troops in IJri and in the IJrseren valley. 

“ To-morrow, or the day after I shall be moving thither. 
Send your letters for me to our good-natured Bündner 
agent. 

“ Do not distress your husband on his sick bed with any 
account of my doings. Added to his other maladies, it 
would give him the jaundice. Don’t give yourself* any 
concern about me. You know my alternative. Since I 
cannot find the peaceful corner I want, I must needs rush 
into the storm. I feel my power, I long for action. I 
rejoice at the distraction, the wild adventures which are 
in store for me ; I will not, I cannot, lie down, and be a 
mere listless spectator while the flames of war are closing 
in upon my poor country.” 


XVI. 

OYEU THE ST. QOTHARD. 



FEW days afterwards, Laura’s brother jumped into a 


boat on the lake of the four Cantons, (Lucerne) and 
was rowed over to the Uri side. The renowned theatre 
of former events past which his boat carried him, the little 
rocky peninsula of Grütli, the rock and chapel where Tell 
made his famous leap, hardly attracted his attention for a 
single moment. 

They seemed to him about as worthy of notice as the 
ancestral coat of arms on the genealogical tree of a noble 
old race, paraded by a generation conscious of its own in- 
feriority and anxious to shield it under the greatness of its 
forefathers. 

Evening had already closed in while he was still wan- 
dering up and down the narrow street of the village of 
Altorf, looking in vain for shelter and a bed. 

The inns and private houses were crowded with a noisy 
soldiery who had occupied every available corner. Seeing 
himself turned away everywhere, he addressed himself in 
his dilemma, to a French officer whom he chanced to meet 
on the street, and communicated to him his mission to the 
headquarters of General Loison. After a few questions the 
young soldier took his arm good-naturedly, like a real Sa- 
maritan, and said : “ aha ! I know ! we shall be colleagues. 
General Demont has announced you, and you are expected 
at headquarters. Come, citizen Prevost, we will share bed 
and board with one another. I am Captain Lempriere, 
Loison’s adjutant. To-morrow we shall both have to go over 
the St. Gothard. I am delighted to have pleasant company. 


4 * 


82 


THE ROSE OF D18ENTI8. 


You must give me an account of the country into which 
you are going to lead us.” 

The hospitality of the officer, although this virtue was 
exercised without much expense to him at the cost of other 
people, was very welcome to our forlorn wanderer. He 
followed his guide to a supper where a number of young 
officers of the great Republic were engaged in chaffing one 
another, swearing and laughing, and went far into the night 
with their accounts of balls, skirmishes, battles and love ad- 
ventures. At break of day, the march was continued to- 
wards the St. Gothard through the magnificent valley of 
TJri. A company of soldiers preceded them, singing. 

The neighboring mountains, everywhere covered with a 
mantle of snow, broken here and there by stupendous walls 
of rock and pine forests, looked like a gigantic, colorless en- 
graving. At times, as the wind shook the boughs of the 
trees, there fell a fine rain of snow upon which the sun played 
with the prismatic effect of myriads of sparkling diamonds. 

“ Glorious ! glorious ! ” exclaimed Captain Lempri^re, 
as he enthusiastically contemplated the dazzling plain and 
its setting of snow-capped mountains, which seemed to bear 
up the blue vault of heaven : “ How they stand there, the 
giant sentinels of the earth, in the solitary grandeur of their 
mighty magnificence !” 

“ It does not seem at all surprising to me that you 
Swiss, surrounded by such fearful and, at the same time, 
majestic wonders, should have unlearned how to laugh, and 
always look solemn except in presence of a bottle of good 
wine. I should certainly become a poet in this country. 
How comes it that Switzerland has never produced a 
Homer or an Ossian?” 

“ I have often asked myself the same question,” said 
the Bündner ; “ still, I am of opinion that landscapes form 
but the inanimate background to poetic masterpieces 5 
deeds of heroism, mighty changes, passions, disasters and 
triumphs of mankind form the foreground. In a little land 


OVER THE ST. GOTHARD. 


83 


like Switzerland, where, for centuries, every diminutive 
individual portion has lived only for itself, there was, it is 
true, no dearth of great events or great talent, but they 
were confined to little patches of territory and to small 
communities of men, without historical import ; they were 
like an earthquake in an ant-hill. 

“ The narrow horizon of a little village or of a city- 
wall are not calculated to enlarge the scope of ideas. 
Whatever was done in the way of authorship was only a 
peddling business. Without the free atmosphere of great 
public life, the mental power of a nation dwindles down 
into platitude. 

“ Under such circumstances poetry deals simply with 
brooks and flowers, love and tears. The man who, with 
great opportunities, might have made a needed leader of 
armies, becomes, by the murderous influence of the guard- 
room and the barrack-square, a simple drill-sergeant. The 
man who, with a wider field, might have wisely controlled 
the destinies of kingdoms, becomes, in the council chamber 
of your little cities, a mere political prattler.” 

“ I think you are right ! ” interrupted the adjutant, 
quickly ; “ The Swiss ought to belong to the great nation, 
to France ! With her they will have the world as a theatre 
for the display of their qualities.” 

“ But the Swiss do not want to belong to any one but 
themselves,” answered Prevost ; “ and will not. If once 
they succeed in welding their little territories into one 
compact whole, they will be I do not say mighty, but great 
enough to hold their own against the wolves who, in the 
distress of European nations, are preying on their weakness, 
and to grasp with a powerful grip the banner of liberty. 
In our present circumstances, peace and liberty are her 
greatest needs.” 

The captain looked with astonishment at his companion, 
whose voice and manner betrayed a great deal more rising 
indignation than his words, and asked ; “ What am I to 


8 !: 


TUE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


understand you mean?” Wolves, wilderness, distress of 
European nations ? I imagine your patriotism is not going 
to make France out a desert, the home of the most civilized 
nation in the world, whose arms, scientific acquirements, 
language, fashions and customs rule the earth ?” 

Flavian answered quietly, with a touch of irony ; “I have 
been misunderstood, and will speak more clearly. A desert 
may have oases, a wilderness may have human habitations, 
but for all that, the one is a desert, the other a wilderness. 
And this seems to be the condition of Europe. Or, shall we 
say that our quarter of the globe is less civilized than 
Africa, Asia, and America, where, just as among us tribes 
dwell in the vicinity of tribes with much the same feelings 
as wild beasts in their dens ; track and lie in wait for each 
other ; show their teeth and claws ; or creep and cringe to 
each other ; tear the weak to pieces and devour them, and 
then mangle one another over the booty ? Do you recog- 
nize the political history of haughty Europe ? Until our 
nations can live near one another, within their boundaries, 
like peaceful families within their own dwellings, all under 
the protection of the one universal code, disposing of their 
differences like rational men, so that the whole world may 
resemble a simple family of many branches, some poorer 
some richer, I would rather not call the world civilized.” 

“Aha! You are a philosopher I Capital!” said Lem- 
priere, laughing out loud ; “ The Germans are, I am aware, 
fond of grubbing, speculating, philosophizing and dream- 
ing ; we French are fond of enjoyment and action.” 

They were interrupted in their conversation, which had 
been continued on similar topics for some length of time, 
by an officer whom the general had sent forward to hasten 
the march of the column. He brought the news that the 
attack upon Graubünden would be made in a few days ; 
that in all probability, Vandamme and Jordan had already 
crossed the Rhine to open the campaign. 

The soldiers shouted at this intelligence “vive la 


OVER THE ST. GOTIIARD. 


85 


repiiblique!” and went, at the double, through the little 
village of Amsteg, past the desert-like Wassen, through 
the frightful rocky bowl of the Schöllinens until they had 
passed over the devil’s bridge through the dark glen of the 
Urnerloch into the quiet valley of Urseren, where they 
discovered, in the distance, the huts of Andermatt. 

Here they were met by Olivier Loison, the Brigadier 
General, scarcely thirty years of age, strongly built, al- 
though slender, with a pleasant, oval face. After having 
received the detachment, and heard the reports of the offi- 
cers, he turned to Prevost, bade him welcome, and took 
him into headquarters. 

“ Citizen Prevost,” said he, “ I expected you sooner. 
The manner in which General Demont has spoken of you 
justifies my fullest confidence. You can render important 
services to the army of liberation and to your own country. 
To-day is the first of March. To-morrow I will give you a 
rest, should you stand in need of it. 

“The day after to-morrow I wish you to reconnoitre 
all the roads over the higher Alps, in order to discover 
which is the most practicable for the troops in this winter 
weather. I fear we shall get up to our necks in the snow 
above there. For your own protection, you can take a 
certain number of soldiers. On the fourth of March, Mas- 
sena opens his attack upon Luziensteig, and, on the same 
day, I enter Bünden. The evening previous, I shall expect 
you back, for certain, with information. You will then 
remain, as adjutapt, ^^ith my stpflT. At present, make 
yourself comfortable. We must cultivate a closer acquaint- 
ance with each other.” 


XVII. 

A SCENE AT HEADqUARTERS. 


HE mess-table at headquarters was groaning under 



viands to which the wild valley of Urseren had con- 
tributed the marmots and chamois of the higher Alps, while 
the daintier dishes and the fine wines had been brought 
some twenty-four leagues from Altdoif and Lucerne. Here 
Flavian certainly made the closer acquaintance of the 
republican general and his officers; just as, the next day, 
he got a better idea of the wild campaign life of the sol- 
diers, in the plundered chalets of the inhabitants of the 


valley. 


He was alternately a prey to horror and anger as he 
contemplated the unbridled license of these military hordes. 
Imagination, in its darkest freaks, had never conjured up 
anything so utterly horrible as the atrocities of war. It 
seemed to him as though he had fallen among a powerful 
clan of robbers, different from the ordinary bandit and cut- 
throat only in uniform and strict discipline. He almost re- 
gretted the step which had thrown him among them. But 
now that he had taken it, he could not retreat without dan- 
ger and disgrace. Finally, he was, for once, satisfied to see 
humanity in the utter and naked horror of its greatest de- 
pravity. “ It is one piece of terrible experience the more,” 
he thought, “to see, close at hand, the hellish riot of such 
disciplined and privileged free-booters, for whose success 
people are praying in churches ; who are called heroes ; to 
whom monuments are erected ; to whose abandonment or 
venality historians offer laurels and incense. 

Ilis very first evening, in the brilliantly-lighted apart- 


A SCENE AT HEADQUARTERS. 


87 


ments of the headquarters, in the very pick of the most dis- 
tinguished officers of Loison’s brigade, filled his whole soul 
with righteous anger. The horrible contrast between the 
courtly, quiet tone of these so-called educated gentlemen, 
with their frightful handiwork, was too much for him. 

Flavian contented himself with the part of a silent lis- 
tener, and, when the general invited him to share in the 
pleasures of the evening, excused himself on account of 
fatigue. Loison, full of spirits himself, was the greatest con- 
tributor to the general hilarity, and accompanied the song 
of a young officer on the flute with exquisite taste. The 
burden of the song was the touching lament of a young or- 
phan girl at the grave of her mother. He declaimed in 
Latin, with great power and feeling, the eclogue of Virgil 
where Melibceus bids a tearful farewell to the fields of his 
youth. As he was, so were the others. Wit sparkled, and 
finally laughter died away as the witness of this or that deed 
of heroism related it to the silent listeners. 

The enjoyment of the company was, however, interrupt- 
( d in a fashion that brought an expression of displeasure 
and annoyance tS every countenance. The hotel-keeper 
was, at the same time, a kind of mayor of the valley. He 
entered accompanied by an aged peasant- woman, trembling 
and weeping, with her garments half torn from her back. 
She raised her hands to the general in mute supplication, 
and threw herself on her knees at his feet. 

“ What’s this ? What do you want ? ” said the general 
angrily to the host. The latter had laid aside his humble, 
good-natured air, and stood before the general, as mayor, 
modest, but firm and dignified. 

His name was Meyer, and ought to be recorded. “ I 
claim,” said the conscientious man, “ a moment’s compas- 
sion from you, general, for this unfortunate widow and her 
children. For the last three weeks, the poor woman and 
her children have been kept out of their own house. A 
dozen of your soldiers have, without orders, taken posses- 


88 


THE BOSE OF DISENTIS. 


sion of her hut, eaten up what they listed, plundered and 
destroyed the rest, and a few days ago killed her only cow. 
For the last three weeks, the wretched woman and her fam- 
ily have had, during these terrible winter nights to put up 
wuth such shelter as was afforded by a tumble-down hay- 
loft. Now, general, they have been driven out of their only 
refuge. Your soldiers are pulling it down for firewood. 
Save, while you can, the last little possession of this poor 
creature, and do not sufier her and her children to be 
driven into the snow to find a resting-place.” 

The general answered, somewhat moodily ; “ I am 
sorry. But do you want my men to sleep in the snow ? Is 
it my fault if your good-for-nothing peasantry hang about 
the whole day instead of getting wood for the men ? Are 
their backs too delicate for the task ? ” 

“ You cannot mean to make such a reproach in earnest, 
General,” said the mayor ; “ You are yourself a witness of 
how our men and even women, are engaged from morning 
till night in carrying wood up and down the mountains ; 
You yourself — ” 

“ Enough ! ” said Loison ; “ Take the woman away ! 
This is not my business, but yours. My business is to look 
after my troops in your cursed valley, not to take care of 
your old women.” 

“ General,” replied the undaunted host of Andermatt ; 
‘‘ I ask neither your favor nor your mercy for these plun- 
dered people ; I appeal to your sense of duty and to your 
manhood ! ” 

“ The devil you do,” shouted the general. “ Remem- 
ber who you are, sir ! Repeat that, and I will cool you 
and your mayoralty down with three days in the guard- 
house.” He paced impatiently once or twice up and down 
the room ; remained pensive for a moment or two ; called 
one of his officers and said to him; “ Go with the old wo- 
man, report what is going on. Put this business to rights.” 

As soon as these orders had been given, Prevost slip- 


A SCENE AT HEADQUABTERS. 


89 


ped out without leave, and went with the mayor to the ruin- 
ed hut of the weeping woman. Through the darkness they 
perceived the flames of a large fire. Part of the hay-loft 
had already been pulled down, and what remained stand- 
ing was now in flames. Soldiers were standing around, 
laughing and warming themselves; among them a few 
wretched children were moving, enjoying the play of the 
flames and the unaccustomed warmth. There was nothing 
to save ! Flavian muttered a few curses, gave the mayor 
a handful of gold in order to procure lodging and necessa- 
ries for the helpless family ; at the same time, he secretly 
pressed into the hand of the disconsolate woman, standing 
close by, a few more pieces of gold, gave her a sign to be 
silent, and to hide it, turned away, and disappeared into 
the darkness. 


XVIII. 


THE MARCH OVER THE HIGHER ALPS. 

HE next morning, Flavian received the general’s orders 



to reconnoitre the passes over the higher Alps. He 
set about his task without delay. For two days the general 
awaited his return, but he did not come. The dawn of the 
morning for the march was breaking. The men fell in. 
Prevost did not appear. Olivier Loison cursed the Bündner, 
on whom his confidence seemed to have been thrown away, 
and gave orders for the march. 

The excited soldiers marched, with drums beating, out of 
the village of Andermatt, which looked like a heap of stones 
covered with snow. Their way lay over frozen, boggy ground, 
along the sides of a winding brook into the death-like soli- 
tudes of the higher Alps. The road became gradually 
steeper, the snow deeper, the morning wind more biting. 
The long, dark masses of the troops, as they advanced up the 
snow-covered hills, looked to the spectator like the body of 
some enormous reptile, while the sheen of their bayonets in 
the sun resembled the play of light upon its scales as it 
wriggled forward. 

They were soon enshrouded in a fog, which laid its grey 
mantle over the mountains. 

The soldiers themselves looked like an army of ghosts, 
gliding from one cloud into another, while their beards and 
moustaches were silvered by the frost. After about three 
hours’ march they came upon a little mountain lake, and 
passed by it over a bridge of ice close to a precipice. When 
they had reached the very summit of the pass, which divided 
Uri from Graubünden, the mist suddenly rolled up like 


THE MAUCII OVER THE HIOEER ALPS. Ö1 


like a drop-curtain from the stage, and gave them an unin- 
terrupted view of the landscape. 

The eyes of the astonished warriors then encountered 
the most awful of all solitudes, a wilderness of snow-moun- 
tains and glaciers towering above one another to the sky, 
with dark clefts between them, and chasms that looked like 
the abode of eternal night. The north pole presents noth- 
ing more death-like and dreadful to the hardy Greenlander. 
As far as the eye could reach there was nothing but the 
cold, toneless sleep of nature. Death seemed to have 
erected his throne here above the world of mortals. The 
winding sheet of nature, torn by storms, seemed to cover 
nothing but the dry bones of a bygone world, and nothing 
moved over the gigantic corpse, except now and then a 
cloud which drove rapidly past one of the mountain 
peaks. 

On the left, towered dimly the glacier pyramids of the 
lofty Krispalt, as though almost a portion of the sky ; on 
the right, the still loftier needles and cones of the majestic 
Sixmadoum. Between the blue, deep crevasses of the 
glaciers and the enormous masses which had broken away 
from the mountains, they looked like gigantic monuments 
of a world destroyed ages ago. 

Both officers and soldiers involuntarily halted. Every 
man seemed seized with a secret dread. Not a voice 
dared to break the solemnity of this awful silence. They 
drew off one by one beyond the lake, until the general 
gave orders to halt, and himself hastened to the front to 
provide for the safety of his men. 

They were gathered up, some distance beyond, at the 
very top of the mountain pass, and, by their movements bore 
evidence to some wonderful occurrence. The outlines of 
the warlike figures could be distinctly discerned, traced 
upon the light background of the sky. Some of the sol- 
diers were presenting or levelling their pieces, others 
stretching out their arras, or waving their hats and hand- 


92 


THE ROSE OF D18ENTIS. 


kerchiefs. Loison, curious to know what had occurred, 
doubled his pace. When he had climbed up the steep | 
snow-slope and reached the top, he exclaimed, “ Well, men! i 
what is the matter ? ” i 

“ Here, general ! ” they cried, “ Witchcraft, deviltry, 
conjuring such as no man ever saw in the world before ! ” 
The general himself was riveted to the spot with 
astonishment, when he cast his eyes upon the mist which, 
at no great distance, was rolling up from below and cir- 
cling in great clouds. He saw in it his own shadow, and 
around it, whenever he moved, a seven-colored halo. His 
eyes could hardly stand the glare of this spectre, which 
played his color from purple and blue to pale yellow and 
crimson. Every man saw himself transfigured as he moved 
in the interior of this blazing circle.* 

“ A good augury ! gentlemen ; ” said Loison to some 
of his officers who stood near him, looking at the wonder- 
ful figures in the mist. “ Every man of us will win his 
own nimbus in the campaign.” 

“But not without paying the expenses of previous 
canonization,” said a voice close behind him; “It is 
somewhat harder to he a saint than to look one.” ' 

The general looked behind and said: “What impudent 
bandit is this ? Who brought him here ? ” 

From his exterior, one would have judged the man to 
be one of those hardy chamois-hunters, who, careless of 
winter or summer, range over the wild solitudes of the Alps 
. in search of game, if only a white hare, for sheer love of 
the chase, and, not unfrequently, meet with their own death. 

» He had the leathern bag, the rifle and powder-horn slung 
across his back : in his hand the alpenstock, with its long 
j iron spike. The rest of his dress was like that of the peas- 
ants of the neighborhood; a rough brown cloth jacket; 
short blue breeches, fastened round the knees with leather 
* A beautiful phenomenon, observable, under favorable circum- 
stances, on many of the Swiss mountains. 


THE MARCH OVER THE HIGHER ALPS. 


93 


straps, blue woollen stockings covered up to the calf of the 
leg with grey over-stockings, stout leather shoes well 
nailed and fitted with ice-crampons. Nothing was visible 
of his face but his nose, eyes and mouth ; the rest of his 
head was concealed by a fur cap drawn well down over 
his neck and ears. 

“ Open your visor, sir highwayman ! Who are you?” 
said the general. The chamois-hunter proceeded to do as 
commanded, opened the fastenings of his cap under his 
chin, and showed himself. It was the captain of rifiemen, 
Prevost. 

“That you? Welcome on the top here !” said Loison, 
but with a trace of seriousness in his countenance, which 
hardly looked like a welcome, “ Why so late ? What 
news from the lower world, which I begin to regret very 
lustily notwithstanding the increased propinquity of heaven 
up here ? ” 

Hereupon he gave the captain a sign with his hand and 
a nod, and took him on one side in order to speak alone 
with him. 

“ How, in the devil’s name, have you got here in this 
questionable disguise ? ” he continued. 

“ I borrowed it from our host in Andermatt, in order 
to allay the suspicions of the peasantry on both sides of the 
mountain.” 

“ And why so late ? You were to have been back yes- 
terday evening.” 

“ I was not master here, general, but road, wind and 
weather.” 

“ Where did you pass the night ? ” 

“ In an empty shepherd’s hut in Djarms, where I was 
glad to get a little fire to prevent myself from freezing to 
death.” 

“ How are the roads in the lowlands ?^’ 

“ In fit condition to break your neck or bury you alive,” 
replied the captain. “ The shorter but steeper road lies to 


94: 


THE BOSE OF DISENTI8. 


the left, over the Alpine meadows of Crispausa, right 
over the smooth snow, down into the smoky hamlet of Rua- 
ras. The easiest way for your troops to make the descent 
would be with arms shouldered and in a sitting posture. 
The road to the right is somewhat longer, and they say 
passable for horses in summer. But between the crags ot 
Nurgallas and Calmot I unexpectedly sank over my shoul- 
ders into a hole, and was very happy even then to find a 
way back into the world.” 

“Well!” said the general, from whose countenance 
his usual cheerfulness disappeared. “Of two evils, the 
shorter is the better ! I shall be glad to get back to man- 
kind out of this wilderness on any terms.” 

“ It is probable, general, that you will soon find more 
men than you want to meet.” 

“ How so ? ” said Loison, startled. 

“ I fear our march has been betrayed ; they are on the 
look-out for us.” 

“ Who ? Are the Austrians there ? ” 

“ I only saw two companies. But the storm bells were 
ringing, and I noticed bodies of armed peasantry marching 
along both banks of the Rhine.” 

“ Aha 1 That mob is soon disposed of. How far is it 
from here to the monastery of Disentis ? ” 

“ I doubt, general, whether we shall have to intrude on 
the reverend fathers to-day.” 

“ And from there to Reichenau, five leagues ? ” said the 
general, moodily pushing back his campaigning hat from 
his brow, as though it were too narrow for the work going 
on in his brain : “ Probably nothing anywhere but mar- 
mot holes instead of human habitations, just like in the 
TJrseren valley, I suppose ? ” 

“ Exactly so,” answered Flavian Prevost ; “ we should 
certainly find as gi)od quarters with the marmots as in the 
sooty huts of the Tavetscher valley. Both huts and vil- 


THE MARCH OVER THE HIGHER ALPS. 


95 


lages are scattered over mountain and valley just like a 
dock without a shepherd.” 

The general paced uneasily up and down in silence : he 
then carelessly asked : “ Are the peasants well armed ? 

Dung-forks, scythes, cudgels, I suppose ? ” 

The captain of rides answered : “ The landsturm is 
probably about three or four times as strong as your batal- 
lions, and according to my information, commanded by an 
experienced general or colonel. These men know every 
hole and corner in the mountains a great deal better than 
we do. May I venture to oder a piece of advice ? ” 

“ And that is ? ” interrupted the general. 

“ To turn back and call up reinforcements, general. 
You are going to destruction ! These mountaineers are a 
I powerful race of men, and will dght with the courage of 
! desperation.” 

“ God help them if they do,” said Loison. “ If they 
I dare to attempt it, I will burn their own and their cattle- 
pens from the base to the tops of their mountains. My 
[ business is not with a parcel of rabble, but with Austrians.” 

“ You are joking, general,” said the captain, seriously 
and respectfully : “French republicans are not incendiaries 
and murderers, I imagine? We are upon the territory of a 
poor but free people whom it is our wish to gain over to the 
cause of France and Switzerland ; of a determined and cour- 
ageous mountain race, to whom we come unbidden, and who 
have a notion, that, like every householder, they have a 
right to show uninvited guests the door.” 

“ Young man,” said the general, flushing; “No moral 
discourses here, if you please ! To-night I will sleep at the 
Benedictine monastery. If the Tavetscher peasantry stand 
in my way it will be their fault, not mine, if their nests 
serve as torches on my road.” 

Flavian’s dark eyes kindled with anger at the reply of 
tlie French commander. “ In that case,” said he, “ yon will 
be kind enough to excuse me from witnessing it. I am a 


96 


THE ROSE OF DI8ENTI8. 


Swiss, and I will lend my hand to the liberation but not 
to the devastation of my country. No atrocities! No 
second Unterwalden here. If it must be so, let us fight like 
men against men, without murder and incendiarism ! 
Otherwise, general, you will be kind enough to give me my 
discharge.” 

“You will remain,” said Loison in a commanding tone : 
“ When we get to Chur, you will receive such discharge as 
you have earned.” 

“ You will please remember,” said the Bündner, “ that 
I came to you as a volunteer.” 

“ No more words ! ” said the general : “ I fear you did 

the French army bad service yesterday.” 

“ General,” shouted the captain, with proud warmth, 
as he stepped a pace forward ; “ bad service ? Because, 
forsooth, I allowed myself to be used as a spy for thirty 
hours in this wilderness of snow and ice, at the danger of 
my life, in order to save your handful of men from destruc- 
tion?” 

“ Save ? destruction ? How ? ” 

“ Make the best of your way back, general ! This 
counsel is the best fruit of my service as a spy, which I am 
already beginning to repent. You have to do with the 
overwhelming power and desperation of a mountain race, 
which knows no fear. You have — ” 

“ Silence ! ” shouted the commander, whose features 
were darkening with rising anger ; “You will allow me, in 
any case, to secure your worthy person.” He summoned 
a few of his officers, to whom the captain had to deliver 
over his rifle, game-bag, and even his alpenstock. He 
gave a sign and the drums beat the advance. 


XIX. 


THE LANDSTURM. 



‘HE descent down the ice-covered paths was more diffi- 


cult and dangerous than the ascent, as the least false 
step or slip would end in a fall over a precipice. To tlie 
left, masses of ashy-grey mist rolled down the mountain 
sides. To the right, the rugged forms of the mountains 
rose up from immeasurable depths, with their needles, 
cones and peaks — in front an endless army of Alpine sum- 
mits, a labyrinth of colossal crystals. 

On one side might be seen a horrible chasm into which 
half a mountain had fallen and been swallowed up, while 
the bare rock of the other half looked cold and stark in 
the winter sky. On the other, bluish-green glaciers with 
every diversity of yawning crevasse exposed their gaping 
wounds to the light of day. From the rocky sides of the 
mountains hung waterfalls without motion, like crystal 
pillars in the air. Dense forests of pine looked below like 
patches of moss on snow-covered stones. From time to 
time, a dull rumble, like rolling thunder, was heard 
through the mountains. It was the roar of the descending 
avalanche, which no eye detected. The soldiers looked up 
anxiously and continued their march in deep silence, in 
order not to bring down upon themselves by their noise 
the tremendous overhanging masses of snow and ice. 

At last the chains of mountains seemed to wuden. The 
first traces of plant-life were discovered ; stunted Alpine 
alders stretched their withered twigs from out the snow, 
and dwarf Alpine firs which crowned their creeping 
branches with burs. Lower down, long reaches of larches 


5 


OS 


TEE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


clung to tlie precipitous sides of the mountains, close to 
empty water-courses, which the rain or melting snow had 
taken thousands of years to eat into the rugged slopes. 
Lower down still, the eye encountered valleys, or rather 
nets of valleys, formed by the feet of the meeting moun- 
tains. A few miles further the handiwork of man became 
visible ; stiles of rough hewn wood, or flat stepping stones 
over mountain rivulets ; ruined covers ; scattered cattle- 
pens, and finally, small human habitations, now close to- 
gether, now at distances from each other, hardly distin- 
guishable from the masses of rock which had been torn 
down from the mountains by storms and avalanches, and 
lay upon the meadows. 

Loison’s corapanions-in-arms felt as though in a new 
world, when, after their separation from the inhabited one, 
they again discovered the smoke, although still distant, 
rising from real habitations. One must have oneself 
known what the feeling of despondency is in these desolate 
wilds of the Alps in winter, among eternal snow and ice, 
to measure the joy of again coming upon the hrst signs of 
the inhabited world. It is much the same feeling as that 
of the mariner when, having for a long time seen nothing 
but the mournful, restless sea and the skj’-, he at last catches 
a glimpse of the solid land peeping above the horizon; or 
that of a caravan in the scorching deserts of Africa sight- 
ing the palm-trees of an oasis. Singing and merriment, 
jokes and ringing laughter, again became the order of the 
day among the hitherto silent masses of soldiery. 

They had already marched a considerable distance 
down towards the valley, when the advanced vidette, 
bending round a projecting rock, espied armed masses 
making for the mountain from difierent directions. The 
general ordered a halt. 

While the troops were forming in order of battle, he 
went forward to an eminence to discover the number and 
movements of the enemy. 


THE LANDSTURM 


99 


From thence he saw the advancing masses, in tolerable 
military order, and not numerically weaker than himself. 
Other detachments of the landsturm, which he saw to the 
right and left, soon became invisible in the mist. 

“It is certainly not too safe here,” said the general to 
his nearest officers, “ I believe captain Prevost is right. 
The peasants are in strong force, the only question is how 
they fight!” 

“General,” remarked one of the officers, “I got to 
know this style of Swiss peasant at Grauholz near Berne, 
and at Rothenturm. We were stronger than they, and 
still they gave us bloody work. If we must go back — ” 

“ Cannot entertain it ! ” said Loison sharply : “ Either 
we shall disperse them, and come up, the day after to-mor- 
row with General Demont, or, at worst, we can hold them 
in check, and give him free play at Reichenau.” 

“Look, general, they are paying us a visit,” said another 
officer; “Three unarmed peasants are approaching and 
waving handkerchiefs. Envoys ! ” 

“ Good ! ” said the general, “ I warrant the rascals do 
not want our bayonets between their ribs. Let us hear 
what they have to ssljN 

AYhen the general reached his advanced posts, the peas- 
ant-envoys were already there ; they were tolerably aged 
but square-built men, dressed it is true as peasants, but 
still in the finest style. They bowed somewhat awkwardly 
as they respectfully uncovered their heads, to which the 
general returned a slight salute. As soon as he was again 
covered, they immediately pulled down their felt hats over 
their brows. 


XX. 


THE MAB TI AL ENVOYS. 


ENTLEMEN,” said the general, Olivier Loison, “ you 



are doubtless the chief authorities in these valleys, 
and are desirous of coming to an understanding with me. I 
am happy to make the acquaintance of such respectable men. 
My errand to you is in no sense a hostile one ; I come as a 
friend, in the name of the French and Helvetian republics 
to liberate Graubünden from the yoke of the emperor. 
Not a man among you shall be injured by us. My stay 
with you will not be over a day.” 

The one among them who seemed to be the chief, raised 
his hat a foot above his matted grey hair, and answered 
with his rough powerful voice : 

“ Ister heroic ! tgei intriddese ha tei enten nossas pau- 
peras vals f Nuot vein 9ius auter, ehe nossa lihertat, JEn- 
yiilei d nus quella huce. Ella gida vos nuot, JJntgi da 
cheu daven ! JVos umors, nos culms, nosses lavines vegnien 
vus mazah. Ilsnos duens emmen a midtaers veguien d de- 
ventar vosses fosses.'^'* 

“ The French general at first listened to the grey-headed 
speaker with smiling perplexity, and saw him, with flushed 
cheeks, gesticulating violently while he fixed his bright, de- 
termined eye upon the listener. He then interrupted him, 
and informed him, politely but sarcastically, that he knew 
nothing of the Romanetsch or Rhetian language. 

The English of this would run : “ Foreign warrior, what brings 
you into our poor valleys ? We have nothing but our freedom. Do 
not rob us of it. It is no use to you. Turn back ! Our men, our 
rocks, our avalanches will smite you ; our precipices and clefts will 
be your graves 1 


THE MARTIAL ENVOYS. 


101 


‘‘ Stop ! ” said the general, winking rognishly to his of- 
ficers, with comic good-nature, “ Stop ! mister plenipotenti- 
ary ! I have no doubt whatever of tlie solidity of your re- 
marks, or of the flattering expression with wliich you honor 
me. But, pray, do not lose jmur eloquence on a pair of ears 
that can detect no difierence between your voice and the 
music of a saw-mill. Go ! ” he said, turning to one of his 
officers : “ call captain Prevost here ; perhaps he can trans- 
late the rasping and quacking of this toothless Demosthenes 
into human sounds.” 

The Tavetscher en^mys had understood just as much of 
the general’s speech as he did of their Roraanetsch. But 
from the sign he had given and the rapid disappearance of 
the officer, they evidently surmised what was going on. 

Flavian soon appeared, preceded by a corporal, and fol- 
lowed by two soldiers. He looked up at the general, not 
disrespectfully but coldly. The latter desired him to ask 
the peasants what they wanted. Flavian turned to the en- 
voys, and said to them : 

“Can neither of you speak French, Italian, or German? 
Then go home and exchange rifle-shots rather than words 
with these French.” 

“ I almost think, lad, it would be the best plan,” said 
another of the envoys, turning towards the one who had 
first spoken. He spoke to him in the dialect of the valley 
for some time, first pleasantly and afterwards moodily, until 
the other stepped a few paces back. 

The new speaker then said to the prisoner : “ Lad, give 
to your master and lord the greeting that I bring him in 
the name of our people. But, mind you ! tell him what I 
say candidly. For the game is not for hazel-nuts, but for 
heads.” 

After this preliminary reminder, he tiiraed towards the 
general, and looked at him in silence, fon a moment, with 
flashing eyes, as though he was about to engage in single 
combat with him. Had such been the case, the general 


102 


THE MOSE OF DISENTIS. 


would certainly have fared badly. It would have been 
difficult to find a more gigantic form than that of this 
Tavetscher herald. He was a head taller than the tallest 
of the men who surrounded him, and had a pair of shoul- 
ders that looked as though they would make mere child’s 
play of hundred-weights. But what was more surprising 
than his size, was his litheness and the agility of his move- 
ments, hardly to be expected from a man of his bulk or age, 
which could certainly not have been less than sixty. His 
hair was as white as snow, and was blown by the wind 
over a ruddy face, slightly tinged with blue on the cheeks 
and nose. 

“ What are your warlike hordes looking for in this wild 
valley ? ” he asked the general, toning down the thunder 
of his powerful voice. “ The wailing of the nations is ris- 
ing against you, and has pierced the clouds. You French 
have destroyed the throne of your ancient kings. You have 
broken the altars of your saints. You have filled the rivers 
of Germany and Italy with human blood. You have dese- 
crated the shrine of the twelve apostles. Do you want to 
add to the wail of the rest of the world that of a few poor 
shepherds in their unknown mountain land ? 

“ These mountains produce no gold ; these streams no 
pearls ; only during four moons is there pasture for our 
herds ; frost, snow and ice the remainder of the year ! Do 
you want to be more hard-hearted to our people than the 
soil they live on ? Will you steal the pittance that 
heaven deals out so sparingly to us ? 

“ Our fathers have, from ancient times, been the faithful 
allies of the Swiss. But you have brought the Swiss under 
your yoke; slaughtered them; sown discord among the 
survivors and fired their huts. You have strangled their 
liberty ; despoiled their cities, and not even left them the 
name of Swiss and confederates. We know no Helvetians! 
Beware of attempting to inflict their fate upon us. You 
would get but a scanty reward ! 


THE MARTIAL EHV0Y8. 


103 


‘‘We have heard, too, that you want to drive the Aus- 
trians out of our land. They are our hereditary allies. 
They are our guests. Who gave you strangers the right 
to dispose of our homes, and to dictate to us whom we 
should shelter ? 

“ Who gave you the right to command our hearts, and 
tell us whom we should love and whom hate. If you are 
the emperor’s enemies, go and seek him in the citadel of 
Vienna. He dwells tliere, not among us ! 

“ Back ! Not a step further forward, or by all the saints 
in heaven, you will be in the lowest hell before sundown. 
We ask no quarter from our enemies, and show none. If 
the snows of the mountains have weakened you, speak ! We 
are Christians! You shall find compassion. Our huts will 
give you shelter, and milk and cheese. Lay down your 
arms ! To-morrow you shall receive them back. Then 
you can return to IJrseren. 

“ Such is ray message. My mouth is the mouth of the 
people ! ” 

Flavian interpreted these words of the Rhetian envoy 
to the general, not only faithfully, but with real enthusiasm. 
The proud simplicity of this speech reminded him of those 
Scythian ambassadors who came forward to meet Alexan- 
der of Macedon as he was penetrating into their steppes. 

Tl)e French commander exclaimed, amid the loud laugh- 
ter of the bystanders, “ Who would have suspected this 
mammoth of being so thorough a diplomatist? Citizen 
Prevost, be kind enough to say, briefly and civilly, that we 
should much prefer to continue the conversation in a warm 
room with a glass of wine, instead of standing out here in 
the snow, getting our feet frozen ; that we are good friends 
of the Graubündner, will keep strict discipline, and merely 
ask for a free march through the land. The Frenchman 
gives up his arms when they are wrested from his dead hand. 
Whoever opposes our march will be shot down. Enough ! ” 

“ Free passage ? ” shouted the Tavetscher, when lie 


104 : 


TUE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


understood the burden of the answer, his voice dying away 
into what resembled the dull bellowing of an infuriated ox. 
“By the bones of St Placidus ! Turn about while there is 
time, heretic ! or your own bones and those of your robbers 
will lie about here in the snow and sun bleaching in num- 
bers, sufficient to let the beggars make buttons out of them 
for the whole of France. The blood-stained breeches of 
long Kuoni no longer hang in the church of Disentis. I 
propose we hang up yours instead. Beware ! stranger.” 

As he spoke the last words, the thunder of his voice was 
distinctly audible to the hostile ranks drawn up facing 
each other. His eyes flashed fire from beneath his bushy 
grey eyebrows. The general understood his threat before 
Flavian translated it. 

“ Let us lose no more time with this hippopotamus,” said 
the general: “Tell him simply, that if they attempt to 
hinder my march, I will carve a road through them, and 
make a torch of their dwellings.” So saying, he turned his 
back abruptly on the envoys and returned to his own troops, 
who, conformably to his orders, Avere already deploying 
on their right. 

“ Now for it,” shouted the sturdy orator, “ look up into 
the clouds, the forest vulture already scents the carrion ! ” 
exclaimed the mouth-piece of the people, and his features 
betrayed his grim satisfaction at the opening of the bloody 
work. “ But you, tell us who you are ? I see the wolves 
there guard you like a fattened lamb, which they are 
afraid of losing. Turn over to us. Don’t be afraid of the 
brace or two of blue-beans (bullets) they would send after 
you. Where do you live ; what are you doing with the 
heretics ? ” 

“I belong to the Engadine, and am a Bündner like 
yourself. But you yourself see that I am forced to be 
your interpreter.” 

“A muzzle-worker then! They are generally volun- 
teers. Would you not rather serve your country ?” 


THE MARTIAL ENVOYS. 


105 


‘‘ Certainly,” said the captain, “ at least here with good 
advice.” 

“Bah!” exclaimed^ the Tavetscher, dryly. “Get over 
to us as quick as you can, lad, if you do not want to meet 
the same fate as those cursed foreigners. Farewell!” 

He took his colleagues by ilxo arm and strode with them 
down the mountain. 

5 * 


XXI. 


THE BATTLE. 

I N the meantime Loison had given the order to march. 

The right of his advanced guard deployed as skirmish- 
ers, and marched forward. Behind them the drums rolled 
the advance. The other troops pressed forward in the 
thick mist, in close order, now looking down at the inse- 
cure footing they found in snow, two feet deep, now 
looking forward to discover the enemy who, by this time, 
was nowhere visible. Loison had forbidden his men to 
lire a shot before they were attacked by the landsturm. 
No one knew where they were until suddenly the sun tore 
asunder the misty veil. 

The men then discovered that they had reached a tol- 
erably even plain, in the back-ground of which was the 
village of Disentis, above wdiich could be distinguished 
the massive wdiite walls of the convent. At the foot of 
the mountain, on the left, the pine forest of Segnes stretched 
out into the plain ; on the right tow’^ards the Rhine, could 
be distinguished the little church of St. Agatha. The two 
mountain torrents, the Meldeser and Tavetscher united 
their roaring waters further on, and divided the high 
table-land from the valley of Meldes, or Brigel, above 
wLich shone the white cones of the Luckmanier, the Six- 
madoum and other Alpine giants. ^ 

Loison had barely time to make a rapid survey of the 
strange neighborhood. For from the village were pouring 
forth streams of the landsturm right up to within range 
of his men, amid yelling and the noise of the life and 
drum. A few shots were dropped right and left : gradu- 


THE BATILE. 


107 


ally they increased, and were finally accompanied by the 
volley firing of a company of Austrians. The French 
returned the fire with deadly effect. The rattle of the 
musketry lasted for some time on both sides, when finally 
the general gave the order to charge, aud with levelled 
bayonets the French dashed at the peasants, who, fighting 
stubbornly, retreated in some confusion towards the village 
of Disentis. The French immediately pursued them into 
the village. This was hardly reached before a thick mist 
completely covered the whole landscape.* 

The fight became wild and bloody. Wherever the red 
flash of a musket was seen, there the combatants aimed. 
The Bündner sharpshooters stood behind the low walls of 
the church3mrd as though entrenched. They spread death 
aud wounds on every side. The French, scattered, pressed 
on all sides, uncertain in which direction to move, retreated 
from the village in order to re-form in the open plain. 

At this juncture, the shout of battle and the rattle of 
musketry was heard on both wings of the French position. 
The leader of the Bündners, an able and experienced officer, 
Anton von Castelberg, well acquainted with the neighbor- 
hood, had, under cover of the fog, marched round the flanks 
of the enemy, and had already despatched detachments of 
the landsturm up the mountain, as an ambush. 

There was no further hesitation possible for the brave 
soldiers of the seventy-sixth brigade. They marched back 
against the dark flood of Segues and re-formed their disor- 
dered ranks with marvellous rapidity. But the furious 
masses of the peasantry were quickly on their track, like an 
army of ghosts in the fog, and the battle was re-engaged 
with terrible desperation. A panic seized the hitherto vic- 
torious soldiers of the Republic. With difficulty held in 
hand by their officers, they commenced their retreat up the 
mountain, which they had hardly left. 

* The suddenness with which this happens in the Alps is quite 
surprising to one unaccustomed to it. ( Translator.) 


108 


TH?j ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


Only after they had marched up a considerable distance, 
and had got above the mist, which like a greyish-white man- 
tle hung over the valleys, did they come to a halt. Loison, 
breathless and cursing, accompanied by a few officers, gained 
the heights. He immediately sent orders for the troops to 
take up a new position. 

Upon turning round, he came upon the captain of rifles, 
who in the wild confusion of the fight had escaped from his 
guards. “ What ! you here, Prevost,” he exclaimed in a 
more friendly tone, slapping him on the shoulders : “ Well 

done : I should have expected to find you anywhere but 
here. Remain with me ! I will wait for the peasants here 
where we have daylight. That — fog below there ! One 
might as well be in a bag. Prevost, you are at liberty. I 
see that your advice above there was well meant, although 
not quite in place.” 

“ General,” answered the young man, “ I spoke as duty 
bade me. Whatever may be the upshot of the fight, I hope 
you will allow me to have my double-barrelled rifle again, 
or at least a sword to protect my own skin. You want no 
idle lookers-on here. The enemy is three or four times as 
strong as we are.” 

“ If they were ten times as strong, I will cut my way 
through them,” said Loison, “It is a swarm of wasps that 
I must shake ofl*. Does it imagine that it bothers me, when 
it’s on the wing ! I’ll smoke it out. Prevost, tell the two 
companies of reserves above there to come down immedi- 
ately, to march to the left, and to join the other troops. 
Quick, carry the order to them immediately ! ” 

“Do I hear rightly? There is firing going on above 
there. We are surrounded. The reserve has got its work 
cut out already. And do you see, general, the dark move- 
ments below in the fog. The wasps are on us ! ” 

“ Like lightning ! ” said the general, and rushed to the 
other troops, while Flavian hastened up the mountain to con- 
vey the commands of the general. Soon after he heard be- 


THE II A TT LE. 


109 


hind him the drums beating the attack and immediately 
thereupon followed the sharp rattle of small-arms. 

The French, with closed ranks and levelled bayonets, 
were charging the thick masses of the mountaineers. The 
latter, for a moment, seemed disordered and unsteady. 
Presently, they gave their terrible cry. They rushed at 
the French in wild onslaught, with levelled pikes and arms. 
A few paces from the front line of the French, which looked 
like a living wall bristling with spikes, they suddenly 
clubbed their muskets, knocked the front row of bayonets 
asunder, and in another minute were in the thick of the 
French in a bloody hand-to-hand encounter. 

During this murderous affair with clubbed muskets, 
Flavian got into an upper* stratum of mist in which he 
could see but a few steps in front of him. But very soon, 
scattering shots fell quite close to him. Here and there, 
in the greyish twilight, as it were, he perceived shadows 
moving to and fro. One of them came upon him. He 
recognized the blue tunic and drawn sword of a French 
officer, seized him by the arm and cried : “ Halt ! I have 

orders from the general. Hallo ! Captain Lempriere, 
what! you? What are you doing? Where are the two 
companies? ” 

“Gone to the devil, the cowardly dogs!” was the an- 
swer : “ To run away from flails ! Incredible! ” 

“ Get your men together,” said Prevost, holding him 
fast ; “the general is close by with the batallion. You 
must join him on the left. You have the grenadiers with 
you, they’ll stand fast.” 

“ 2'hey grenadiers?” screamed Lempriere, full of 
fury: “Grenadiers? They ought to be strung up to the 
gallows with their epaulettes, the old women! They are 
deaf and blind, and are the shame and disgrace of the brig- 
ade ! ” 

“ Stay, captain,” said the Bündner, “ we shall be giving 
bad example if you seem in such a hurry. I’ll stand by 


llö 


THE BOSE OF DISENTIS. 


you. We will get the men together. If we must die, let 
it be fighting.” 

“Off!” said the captain, “Let me go or I’ll put my 
sword through you : It’s all up. The peasants are on us.” 
Therevvith the warrior broke away, and fled for his life. 

At the same moment, the firing behind him became 
livelier. The mist rose. A few soldiers were forming 
ranks to oppose the advancing peasantry. They were 
close at hand. The captain of sharpshooters wanted to 
gain them, the more so as he found a discarded musket on 
the ground. He stooped to pick it up. The shots rattled 
round his ears. He felt the shock and rush of men dash- 
ing past him, and fell backwards down one of the precipi- 
tous slopes of the mountain side. 


XXIL 


THE AVALANCHE, 



E happened, fortunately, to fall upon a dazzling, but 


moderately sloping field of snow, and his descent 
was not at first very rapid ; the position of his body was, 
however, one to cause alarm. He had fallen on his back, 
with his head downwards, and was threatened with death 
on the first projecting fragment of rock his skull chanced 
to meet. With great presence of mind, Prevost attempted 
by a powerful side swing, to bring his feet foremost in his 
descent. He only partially succeeded in his endeavor. 
For no sooner had he brought his body into a kind of 
equilibrium than he rolled downwards like a cylinder over 
the smooth snow-slope. With the strength begotten of 
despair, he struck out with his arms and legs, to their 
great danger, and checked the rapidity of his descent, 
which was bringing on vertigo. 

He finally succeeded, by digging his hands into the 
snow and using the crampons on his feet, in bringing him- 
self up for a moment on his perilous downward path. 

Breathless, he remained a moment in the most danger- 
ous uncertainty. The ground beneath him, the mountains 
above, him, seemed to be whirling round. In the distance 
above, he heard the sharp whip-crack of the rifles ; beneath 
him a dull roar as of a furious torrent. 

When his giddiness had, for a moment, subsided, he 
ventured to half raise his body and look around for some 
chance of escape. He had not the courage to look up at 
the height from which he had fallen ; the least movement 
more might carry him down into the abyss which yawned 


112 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


below him. The broad expanse of the sloping mountain- j 
side swept down to a depth that could not be measured.' | 
Around him was nothing but a white, a dazzling white, 
precipitous snow-slope, without a bush or a projecting rock 
to which he could cling. He could certainly not remain 
where he at present clung: neither could he hope for 
human aid. He gazed disconsolately at the heavens ; 
sighed quietly, “ Good bye, Laura ! ” and commending 
himself to God, suddenly determined to put an end to the 
vain torture of life. But life struggled hard against 
death, and the yearning for escape asserted itself with 
might. The hope was still strong in him that perhaps 
he might reach the bottom of the mountain with his life, 
if he could manage the descent quietly foot by foot. He 
cautiously began the attempt. But he immediately dis- 
covered that the whole mass of snow, with and under his 
body, had broken away from its bed of ice and was moving 
downwards with him. 

Enormous masses of snow were soon rushing past him. 
He was surrounded by clouds of silvery dust. More rapid 
and wild became the descent. Finally the Avhole mass 
which was carrying him along shot away with him swift 
as an arrow. There was no stopping. Darkness settled 
upon his senses. Consciousness died out. 

Now and then, a kind of inchoate idea would, like a 
feebly flickering flame, play to the surface of the mind, but 
immediately died away. His state was that of oscillation 
between waking and sleeping, life and death, but was 
neither the one nor the other. Consciousness seemed smit- 
ten with the dull feeling of annihilation; its feeble and 
transient recovery was like the slumber of the grave. Still 
sensibility began to assert itself in the feeling of corpse-like 
coldness in the face. He heard a muffled rumbling and 
roaring. He still breathed, and had command of his mind, 
but without any recollection. He instinctively moved his 
hands from time to time in the icy wetness, opened and 


THE A VALANCHE. 


113 


shut his eyes ; opened them with difficulty and then per- 
ceived neither light nor darkness. He soon remembered 
his lall, without being able to tell whether it was still con- 
tinuing, or whether he was a mangled wreck in the depths 
of one of the glacier crevasses. The past broke in more 
clearly upon his confused perceptions. The present con- 
tained nothing. His body made an involuntary effort at 
standing up, but in vain. His limbs lay either broken, or 
pai*alyzed, or bound. A heavy weight was pressing down 
upon the body. Terror seized his soul, as he thought he 
was still living but buried alive. 

In horrible agony he worked with his forehead and 
hands against the mass which was lying upon him. It 
constantly fell in again. It became clearer to him that he 
had been swept away by an avalanche. 

Life, in desperation, now struggled with the strength of 
a giant. He drew his hands together like an earth-worm 
boring, and drove them out with all his might: he fought 
through wdth head and arms, dragging his body after him, 
until finally, a steady brilliancy in the snow betokened the 
near neighborhood of daylight. His movements imme- 
diately became more rapid, vigorous and easy. He finally 
broke through, stepped out of his grave, and, exhausted 
even to fainting by his tremendous exertions, sank down 
at the edge of the avalanche. 

He found himself in a narrow cleft, between the rugged 
mountains whose feet met. Up the precipitous snow-slope 
of the one mountain he recognized the broad track of the 
avalanche, which he had doubtless caused by his own fall. 
The other mountain rose almost perpendicularly, with 
gigantic slabs of rock overlapping one another, or with 
enormous hollows washed out by the waters of the prime- 
val world. 

It w'as crested by a dark pine wood, the greater portion 
of which, broken and laid low by stones and avalanches, 
looked like enormous corn-stalks after a heavy hail-storm. 


114 


THE BOSE OF DISENTIS. 


The captain of rifles thought with a shudder of the 
horrible death from which he had escaped with life and 
limb, and, as though still doubtful of the reality of his 
deliverance, from time to time felt and rubbed his thighs 
and arms. Even the flask at his side was still unbroken. 
He folded his hands, sent a look of gratitude accompanied 
by a sigh to heaven. His next thought was to seek an 
outlet from the rocky gorge into which his good angel had 
directed his lightning-like flight in safety. A little moun- 
tain torrent did duty as a sign-post. This stream, spring- 
ing in diminutive waterfalls from one ledge to another, 
continued its course between steep ridges of snow and pre- 
cipitous clefts in the rock to unknown parts. 

His way through the wild and narrow gorge was not 
made without difficulty. At one time the passage between 
the rocks was so narrow that the torrent could hardly find 
a way for its foaming waters. At another it was almost 
cut off by enormous blocks of fallen rock. Night had 
already closed in before Flavian finally became aware, by 
the light of the stars and the weird sheen of the snow, 
that he had got into the open. 

He stepped forward without knowing whither, perhaps 
to encounter fresh dangers. Although, from his boyhood 
upwards, he had not unfrequentlj' found himself in a similar 
position, on his chamois-hunting excursions, on his native 
mountains, still, his courage at times failed him when he 
remembered that he now had to ask food and shelter from 
a peasantry maddened by the excitement of victory and the 
total discomfiture of their enemies. 

He might have walked forward about a league, when he 
discovered in the snow great numbers of human footprints. 
He resolutely followed the tracks which he knew must lead 
to some inhabited neighborhood. 


XXIII 


AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 


O ! Ho ! heavens above ! which is the way ? Where 



the — am I ? ” exclaimed a voice in the darkness at 
his side. 

Almost alarmed, and yet delighted, Flavian answered 
through the dead calm of the night, “ Who goes there ? ” 

“ Halt ! fellow,” said the previous voice in German : 
“ take me with you if you are what you ought to be. I am 
wandering about blinded by the snow. Why the devil did 
you fools leave me in the lurch, when you saw me pitched 
over by the cursed Frenchmen? If I hadn’t guarded the 
bridge over the brook like a man, you would every one be 
sitting now in the devil’s chops. 

“Stop, lad, I tell you ! Do you think the French are 
still on your heels ? You need not be any longer afraid of 
the pack of thieves. They bolted back across the moun- 
tains as if they had on seven-league boots.” 

“ Come on ! ” cried the captain, shocked at the unex- 
pected news of Loison’s retreat, and increasing his pace : 
“ Show a little more leg and a little less tongue ! ” 

“ The devil take you and your tongue ! ” replied tho 
other ; “ even a lame dog has three legs to trot on ; iny 
two hang on to my buttocks, one tired out and the other 
dislocated by a jump that I swear the devil himself won’t 
take after me. But my poor soul, a young precipice fifty 
feet deep is no joke. The French themselves opened both 
mouth and nostrils when I slipped from them, and treated 
me to a parting tune with their rifle balls about my 
ears.” 


116 


TUE ROSE OF DISENTTS. 


The stalwart form of a peasant hereupon approached 
limping, and immediately took Flavian’s arm, leaning upon 
it with no inconsiderable weight. 

“ Then the French are beaten and driven back ? ” asked 
Prevost eagerly. 

“ Why ! they hopped away from us like the cattle in the 
Alps from a thunder-storm,” answered the peasant laugh- 
ing. “I’ll bet they won’t ask for Tavetscher milk-broth 
again any more than their comrades that are lying dead 
in the snow. That was a fight and butchery if you like, 
every mother’s son of us a Bonaparte.” 

While the Tavetscher hero was descanting on the 
bravery of the victors and the destruction of Loison’s bri- 
gade, Flavian was ruminating, in his own mind, over the 
danger of his present position. Woe to him among his 
countrymen, in the intoxication of victory and wild passion, | 
if they discovered that he came upon them with the French. 
He had nothing to expect but the death of a traitor to 
Fatherland. The only thing that could disarm suspicion 
was his peasant’s dress ; and he was naturally delighted at 
the good fortune which had thrown it in his way. Flight 
was not to be thought of. He therefore chimed in with 
the Biindner’s proud rejoicing over Loison’s disastrous at- 
tempt, and foretold fresh triumphs over the enslavers of 
Switzerland and Ital;^. In the midst of his talk with his 
limping companion, the latter suddenly stood still, and 
cried out : 

“ Zounds, that voice sounds curiously to my ears, or I’m 
bewitched. My soul on it ! I won'ifc be Uli Goin again as 
long as I live, if you’re not captain Prevost ! ” 

He bent forward, at these words, towards the captain’s 
face, in order to recognise him in the dim starlight. 

“ Is it possible ! ” cried Flavian, in high glee, “ that it 
is you, honest Uli ? I can’t believe my luck. Welcome a 
hundred times ! ” 

“ A thousand times ! captain ! ” shouted Uli, and nearly 


AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 


117 


crushed the liand of the captain in his own gigantic fist. 
“ Who’ll tell me I wasn’t born with a caul ! We’re just like 
a pair of bats, upon my soul, and always meet one another 
at night. Do you remember last autumn in the Lenzer for- 
est ? But this time I shouldn’t have recognized you, not 
even with a pair of cat’s eyes. You transmogrified into a 
highlander just like one of ourselves! So you were in the 
fight too ? I’ll bet we peppered the hides of those vermin ! 
Well, did you come on from Chur yesterday or to-day? ” 

“ I was on the way here from Uri,” answered Flavian ; 
“but was seized by the French, and held by them as a 
prisoner until I took a leap like yourself, went over a pre- 
cipice, and when I came to had to dig my way out of an 
avalanche. But tell me where we are ! ” 

“You are asking a blind guide, captain. For my soul, 
I don’t know whether we are at Rueras or Sedun, Selva or 
Ciaraut, Camischolas or Giuf. Wherever you see smoke 
coming from a heap of stones in this country there’s sure to 
be a hearth beneath. They say the devil was flying by 
here, one day, with a bag full of houses, but he struck on 
the Piz Alp and ripped his bag open, so that he spilt 
the huts all over the mountain and valley. But I’m of 
your way of thinking, captain, and would rather be sitting 
down to a good meal at the pretty hostess of Lenz than 
limping about here in the frost and snow. We shall cer- 
tainly not get so good a feed here to-night as we got there. 
There are too many mouths, and we shall get in after 
meal-time.” 

“ Did the French lose many men in the retreat ? ” said 
the captain, anxious to learn more particulars of the 
fight. 

“ I myself,” said Uli, “ killed a good half dozen, that 
I’ll swear. If they hadn’t hopped over the Crispausa sharp- 
er than wild goats, by the Lord, we should have killed the 
lot, and the bears and w^olves would have run the risk of 
dyspepsia from them. 


118 


Tins ROSE OF RISEN ITS. 


“ And if a good many of the heretics were not skilled 
in the black arts, every one of them would have had more 
holes through his body than a sieve. We sent a couple of 
million balls into their ribs : if they glanced off them it isn’t 
our faults, for better shots are not to be found in Europe 
than between Sukmanier and Crispalt. But look out lor 
the summer : in the clefts and gulleys, on the rocks and 
bushes there will be more French skeletons than there are 
twigs on a pine tree. Whether dead or only half-dead, 
whoever could not keep up with the retreating troops was 
j)itched by the blue-coats themselves over the precipices 
like so much lumber.” 

“ Hush ! Do you hear the drums in the distance, Uli ? ” 

“ They are our people, captain, and we are on the 
right road. Hurrah ! Forward ! The path over the snow 
would not be so bad, if my left leg would only make a 
better job of it. Halt ! thunder ! listen ! That is Austrian 
calf-skin ! I wish the cormorants would just drum them- 
selves out of the country to-morrow. We would take 
France single-handed.” 

“ What ! Uli Goin ! Are you no friend to the Imperi- 
alists ? ” 

“ I, why not, captain. I know them. They are brave 
soldiers, don’t care for hell and the devil. Splendid hus- 
sars, splendid grenadiers, moustaches like a fox’s tail, and 
shakos like butter casks. 

“ They have only one fault in their carcass, and that is 
the mouthpiece. The Lord help our smoke-houses, and 
bacon-flitches, our cheese-racks and cellars, if we had to 
feed them. The man hasn’t yet been created that could 
stop up that hole between their teeth. I assure you — ” 

He was here interrupted by his companion, who said: 
‘‘ There’s a light ahead. I expect we are in the neighbor- 
hood of some village.” 

“Right, and no mistake,” exclaimed Uli, “I’ve been 
scenting cheese for the last few minutes. The devil take 


AJS' OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 


119 


this left foot ! If it only had as much sense as my stom- 
ach, we should already he sitting down before a loaf of 
bread and some good soup.” 

He pushed forward leaning on Flavian’s arm. The road 
ran down to a few houses which every moment became 
more visible. Near one of them was assembled a* crowd 
of armed peasants, with the dull, red light from the win- 
dows playing upon them. Uli Goin looked right and left, 
in order to make out where they were. “ All right,” he 
said, “ only a dozen paces farther on. I know Gilg Danif- 
fer I He’ll have to give us quarters. Nothing like taking 
time by the fore-lock. Come ? ” 

They passed by several houses from which resounded 
the wild shouts of the peasants, who, after the fatigues and 
dangers of the day, had quartered themselves, in military 
fashion, in the nearest houses. 

At last Flavian’s guide turned towards a long wooden 
building of considerable size. Both forced their way in 
through a crowd of men who were constantly passing in 
and out. They were all either talking, laughing, or sing- 
ing. Right and left were well lighted rooms full of men 
and women. A violin, a clarinet, and a fife were in re- 
quisition, and the dancers footed it merrily upon the hard 
and polished wooden floor. Uli Goin, quickly oblivious 
of all his pain, drew Flavian in with him, and said : “ It’s 
j list as lively here as at the fair of Ilanz, and J ohnny is again 
in high spirits. That’s the style for me. At a push, I 
could give a hop or two on one leg. But I must first look 
after the main point, with which body and soul are kept 
together. Wait here a minute for me. Gilg Danif- 
fer must turn out what he’s got, even if it’s his last 
loaf.” 

He limped away. Flavian, quite upset by what he had 
undergone during the day, felt anything but comfortable 
in this deafening noise. The majority of those whom he 
now saw revelling and dancing had but a short time before 


12Ö 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


been staring death in the face, and had only just re- 
turned from their bloody work. Many were tumbling 
about more intoxicated with wine or brandy than with 
joy at their victory ; while here and there an aged woman, 
or a young Avife was making her way, with tearful eye 
and anguish in every feature, looking for husband, son or 
brother who had not returned from the fight. 

Far more dreadful than this spectacle of wild revelry 
and crushing anguish, was another which presented itself. 
As he made his way through the dense crowd which sur- 
rounded the dancers, he saw seated upon a rough bench, 
five or six French soldiers, who had been taken in the 
fight, with torn uniforms, and half-naked, tied hand and 
foot, and bound together in the coils of a long rope which 
was wound round them. The dancers footed it round 
them, skipping and jumping with a will amid the thunder- 
ing laughter of the spectators. The wretched prisonei’s 
sat there exhausted and gloomy, looking earnestly down- 
wards as though measuring the depth of their misfortune, 
or thinking of parents and sweethearts at home to whom 
they must bid an eternal farewell. 

Every now and then, one of them would cast a mourn- 
ful gaze towards heaven, as thougli he was seeking conso- 
lation from above; another would scan with lowering 
brow the maddened crowd, and mutter a curse. No one 
understood the language in which the unfortunate soldiers 
by times complained and prayed. Neither did they under- 
stand the language of the Romanetsch tongues which Avere 
mocking them. 

The captain of rifles stood for a long time stunned with 
horror. It seemed to him as though some imp of hell had 
suddenly transported him from the middle of civilized 
Europe into one of those A\dlds Avhere black men or copper- 
colored Indians dance with devilish glee around those 
whom they have determined to put to a horrible and lin- 
gering death. He was about to speak to the wretched 


AN OLh ACQUAINTANCE. 


121 


victims, and plead their cause, when he suddenly felt him- 
self seized by a powerful hand and drawn away. 

It was Uli Goin, who said, “This is no place for us, 
captain, every blessed bottle in the place is empty. So let 
us beg or steal provender somewhere else ; it’s a hard job 
however to steal where the host himself is a rogue.” 

A powerful slap on the back interrupted the speaker. 
Uli looked round defiantly; behind him stood a broad- 
shouldered and thick-set old peasant laughing. His white 
hair fell in confusion over a full ruddy countenance. Fla- 
vian recognized him, and saw from the bluish tinge of his 
nose and cheeks that it was the same man for whom and 
Loison he had been obliged to act as interpreter before the 
fight. 

“You born rogue and rascal, you penniless lump!’* 
shouted the old one wfith a laugh to Uli: “There are 
enough ogres here to-day to empty the kitchen of a king.” 

“ Listen, Gilg Danilfer,” said Uli confidentially, “ we 
don’t ask you to feed us for nothing, and you know money 
makes a host obliging.” 

The old man was not, however, listening to him any 
longer. He eyed the captain with great attention all over, 
and said : “Well, what next! are you really here, lad ? Got 
away from the foreign watch-dogs after all ? That’s the 
way. Black bread and freedom forever, eh? I suppose 
you are as hungry as that wolf there, who is nothing but 
stomach from his neck downwards?” 

Uli Goin did not wait to be asked a second time ; he 
gave his host a stroke of gratitude on his broad shoul lers, 
a contented smile overspread his features, and Flavian 
followed both through the kitchen into a narrow little room. 

“ If you can’t find any better lodging,” said the host, 
“you can stretch yourselves on the benches for the night.” 
He placed a heap of broken bread and cheese before them, a 
few scraps of smoked meat, and a half-empty bottle of 
brandy. He then went out. 

6 


122 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


IJli looked at th^ receding form of the host with knitted 
brows, and muttered : “ By all the saints, this is a meal 

with a vengeance ; fit for curs, but not for men who have 
just come back from a fight like to-day’s.” Nevertheless 
he fell to ; hunger was stronger than his not unreasonable 
anger. 

The captain fared no better, however much he might 
have been bewildered or enraged at the occurrences of the 
day, and at the inhumanity of which he had just been wit- 
ness. After both had eaten what they could of the wretched 
meal that lay before them on the table, lighted by a dirty 
lamp, they stretched themselves out upon the ground in 
order to get a little sleep. 

Tlie events of the last few hours passed in review before 
Flavian’s eyes as though in a dream ; masses of struggling 
men, avalanches, the smoke of powder, mists and the war- 
dance of savages. All was confusion in his mind. Soon 
the noise of the music awoke pleasanter dreams in him. 
He fancied he was walking through a brilliantly lighted 
ball-room and was seeking amid the gorgeously apparelled 
beauties the lovely Elfrida Von Marmels, or whirling round 
with Laura in the mazes of the waltz. 


XXIV. 


TUE DREADFUL NIGHT. 



FEW hours later, a sharp quick report roused the two 


weary men from their slumbers. They looked around. 
Their little room was in the deepest darkness. The moon- 
light was struggling through the chinks in a shutter. Low 
mutterings were heard in a neighboring room. Then a ter- 
rible shriek rose on the night air : Au secours ! A%i, se- 

cours ! Je me meurs ! Alisericorde I ” Then all was still. 

Flavian thought he detected the death-rattle of a man. 
He sprang, horrified, to his feet and listened. Presently 
there was a rifle-shot, which seemed to come from the 
street. This was followed by great uproar and the sound 
of confused cries. 

“ Uli ! Uli ! something dreadful is going on ! ” said 
Flavian, rushing to the door, then through the dark kitchen 
into the passage. Here he met Gilg Danifier, the host, 
who, with a lamp in his hand, pale, with eyes starting out of 
their sockets, was moving about like a gigantic ghost. His 
lips were moving, but Flavian’s repeated questions produced 
no answer. 

“ Speak ! ” screamed Flavian, throwing himself into 
the way of the host, who looked like a somnambulist ; 
“ What is the matter outside there, or in your house ? Is 
this a surprise of the enemy ? I thought I heard shots ! ” 

Daniffer raised his arm slowly, and pointed in silence to 
the door of the room in which the dancing had taken place 
during the evening. A dim light was perceptible from 
without. The young man dashed into the room. A few 
peasants were standing there, leaning on their rifles ; one 


124 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


yawning, another laughing, a third silently loading his piece. 
They grinned quietly at the intruder without heeding his 
questions. One of them, whom he had seized by the arm, 
and into whose ear he had, in his anger, yelled, at last sput- 
tered out thickly : 

“ All over ! dance done with, and well paid, d’ye see ? ” 

Prevost looked in amazement at the man, who seemed 
not to understand him. “There is powder-smoke here,” he 
exclaimed, “ what does the shooting mean?” 

“ War, you fool ! ” answf-»'ed the man who was loading 
his piece, betraying his condition by the swaying of his 
body : “ Hallo ! there, put powder in the pan ! Present ! 

Fire ! Down with them all as dead as mice ! ” 

As the captain scanned the room uneasily, he thought 
he perceived something like a human form stretched out on 
the floor. He seized the lamp and made for it. It Avas a 
French soldier, face downwards, Avith the blood oozing from 
under his body. 

“ Assassins ! ” shouted Prevost, horror-stricken, to the 
peasants. “What have you done? Murdered a prisoner 
of war? What Avas his crime? Seize this Avretch, man, 
and take him to the guard ! Away with him ! ” As nei- 
ther of them moved, but stared stupidly at him, he grasped 
the one whose piece had just been discharged. The drunk- 
en wretch tumbled backwards, and fell across the corpse 
of the prostrate soldier. Prevost rushed to the door to call 
for help. He Avas met there by two other drunken peas- 
ants who barred his passage, shouting in high glee. “ Look 
sharp ! boys ! You are ready then ? ” cried one of them. 
“ We heard it. Ours in the room beyond there is stretched 
on all fours, too! Come! Come! The Frenchman is 
shouting out : ‘ Courage! courage ! ’ Look here ! ” With 
this the wretch brandished a large knife in his bloody fist. 
“ They must all go, all ! Not one of them shall leave Dis- 
entis alive ! W here are the others ? Already led out ? 
After them ! Follow me ! Follow me ! ” 


THE DREADFUL NIGHT. 


125 


He turned and left the house. His companion followed. 
Flavian, dumb with horror, and maddened at the atroci- 
ties which he had seen and heard, followed the murderers 
wnth palpitating heart. He had no doubt but that the un- 
fortunate prisoners were going to be massacred. He hardly 
flattered himself that he could save them. Still he followed 
them out without knowing whither he was going. He had 
only gone a few steps in the blood-stained snow when he 
came upon the corpse of a French soldier stretched out at 
full length. A bright flash for a moment lighted up the 
dead warrior and the neighboring houses. The crack of a 
rifle was heard at the same moment. He hastened to the 
spot where the shot was fired. A compact crowd of armed 
men, women, and children was standing there. In the 
midst of them there stood a lantern upon the ground. He 
made his way rapidly and silently through the dense mass, 
which was apparently under the orders of one man, who 
spoke to them in the Romanetsch language. 

Having penetrated- to the inside of the ring formed by 
them, his eyes fell upon fresh horrors. One soldier just 
shot lay in the agonies of death upon the ground. Another 
of the prisoners of war was kneeling near him with his 
hands tightly tied behind his back. He was a singularly 
handsome young man, but pale with the dread of death, 
and shivering in the fearful night. His uniform was half- 
torn from his body. In the flushed features of the by- 
standers there was not a trace of compassion : only curios- 
ity, or at times calm, smiling hellishness. The eyes of the 
mob were at one moment directed towards the body of the 
murdered victim, at another towards two Benedictine 
monks, who were standing close to each other. 

One of these was talking in the language of the valley, 
and, as it seemed, with the profoundest emotion, and a voice 
quivering with anguish. 

When he had finished, a voice from the crowd thunder- 
ed out something in the Romanetsch language ; whereupon 


126 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


there was a murmur of applause, and the crowd nodded 
their approbation to one another. 

“ Listen, my friends,” said the second monk, who had 
hitherto been silent,— he was a little old man of venerable 
appearance — “ Let me speak to you in the name of God, and 
the Blessed Virgin, before you again shed human blood that 
will cry to heaven for vengeance upon you and your chil- 
dren. Listen to me ! ” 

He begged in vain. A low murmur ran through the 
crowd, which swayed uneasily to and fro ; it grew deeper 
and louder every minute, until a stentorian voice was heard 
uttering an oath enough to terrify any one. It proceeded 
from the throat of Uli Goin. “ Silence ! Silence ! ” shouted 
the gigantic peasant in tones which drowned every other 
sound. ‘‘ Silence ! or may the thunderbolts of God strike 
your cursed skulls. Listen to the words of our reverend 
Father Gregory, which are worth at least as much as the 
blood-thirsty croaking of these braggart clowns.” 

The crowd turned their eyes towards the stalwart 
speaker. As he noticed the attention, or it might be, the 
estrangement of the mob, he added : “ You boobies, what 
are you gaping at ? I say that where one man stands against 
a hundred, that is courage, but when a hundred are against 
one, as you are, it is base cowardice. Yes, look at me ! I’m 
the man that’s talking ; Uli Goin, and nobody else ! ” 

When silence had been restored, the old Benedictine 
began: “In the name of God, of his gracious mother and 
all the saints, your pastor Vigilius Wenzein has begged 
you to have mercy and compassion on the poor prisoners 
of war. You would not hear his voice and the voice of 
heaven. Your heart was hardened. You only listened to 
the shouting and laughter of hell. Woe to you and your 
children ; hell Avill reward your atrocity! You have aban- 
doned God : God will abandon you, and will deliver you 
into the hands of your enemies. Their armies will come 
back with tenfold strength, and will wreak vengeance on 


THE DREADFUL NIGHT. 


127 


you. I see your houses in flames, your pasturages a wilder- 
ness, I hear the wail of your widows and orphans over 
your corpses! O ye men baptized in the name of Christ, 
wehere are the Christians among you ? O, ye beings with 
the faces of men, what has become of your men’s hearts ? ” 

“ When first I came to you from my own distant coun- 
try, I thought there dwelt among you a simplicity, inno- 
cence, and loyalty not to be found elsewhere. This evening 
has undeceived me and has turned the remainder of my days 
into night. I want to die. Kill me, old man that I am, 
for you are craving for blood, but spare the life of this 
poor youth. This is my last request. Listen to it 1 Kill 
me, and I will ask for mercy on you at the throne of God, 
but show mercy to this youth. A truce to murder ; be 
merciful, if you would have heaven be merciful to you.” 

“No! no!” screamed a voice in the crowd; “Ven- 
geance is ours, the foreign bloodhounds have shot my 
father ! Revenge is ours ! They have plundered ray house ! 
At them! at them! destroy the devil’s brood ! Think of 
what the monks said before the action : we are the instru- 
ments of God to defend the true religion against the blas- 
phemer and the heretic.” 

“ Shoot them down ! No mercy ! ” 

No more was heard. Wild tumult and the noise of 
arms drowned the remaining words of the speaker. The 
aged Benedictine knelt down beside the doomed youth, 
and raised his hands to heaven. But a man sprang into 
the circle with upraised axe against the French youth. 
Prevost as rapidly dashed after the murderer, seized him, 
and, with a powerful throw, sent him crashing on his 
head to some distance. The mob immediately commenced 
a terrible onslaught. They howled with rage. The yourg 
French officer’s brains were dashed out with the butt of a 
musket. Prevost received a stab from a knife in the 
shoulder, and a bayonet thrust through the hip. He fell. 
Uli Goin a 2 )peared too late to help him. He had seen the 


128 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


attack upon him, but only found him when the crowd had 
gone to follow the mutilated corpse of the youthful French- 
man in fiendish glee. 

The humane Benedictines got the bleeding captain car- 
ried into a neighboring house by a few of those who 
remained behind. They loosened his clothes, washed his 
wounds, bound up the limbs from which the tide of life 
was ebbing, and endeavored to restore him to conscious- 
ness. Uli Goin was the handiest and, at the same time, 
the most disconsolate of all. Before daybreak, while the 
peasants were sleeping off the effects of their fearful carouse, 
the wounded man, still unconscious, was carried into Dis- 
entis. 

The owners of the castle of Disentis had already 
afforded a refuge there to four or five French officers who 
had been taken prisoners. Upon the earnest representa- 
tions of the Benedictine Father. Gregorius, they also provi- 
ded him with quarters. 


XXV. 


COMPLICA TIONS. 



LAYIAN remained the whole day unconscious, both 


from the wounds and from the severe contusions he 
had received when on the ground under the feet of the 
peasantry. The fate of the young man hung in the bal- 
ance. Uli Goin never left the bedside of his benefactor, 
and even the uneasiness and disturbances which filled the 
valley never drew the faithful attendant a single moment 
from the young man. 

Reports spread through the land that Massena’s army 
had victoriously crossed the Rhine, and was attacking the 
fortified narrow pass of Luziensteig. The distant thunder 
of cannon in the direction of Reichenau, at the foot of the 
Kunkelser pass, clearly showed that the enemy was upon 
Graubünden territory in that direction. The landsturm 
again assembled. Anton Von Castelberg again assigned 
their posts to the various companies of gaudily-uniformed 
peasantry. The day was, however, passed in consultation. 

On the following morning, the sixth of March, the des- 
perate news flew over the land that General Demont was 
really at Reichenau with his brigade; that he had forced a 
batallion of Austrians to ground their arms, and was send- 
ing a detachment of French troops up the highland torrent 
against Ilanz and Disentis. 

At the same time, the report came in that Loison, with re- 
inforcements, was again moving from Urseren over the higher 
Alps against Disentis. There was now nothing but dissen- 
sion, indecision, despair. Some fled into the higher neigh- 
boring valleys; others wanted to ofler a useless resistance. 


130 


THE ROSE OF DISENTI8. 


General Loison entered Disentis without any note-wor- 
thy opposition, and his arrival was greeted with wild joy 
by the imprisoned officers in the castle of Castelberg. 

The general himself waited upon the wife of the district 
judge in order to thank her for the really motherly way in 
which she had tended and sheltered the wounded officers. 

He went to Prevost’s bed of pain. There he was great- 
ly moved at the sad fortune of the young man. Prevost 
could not answer him. He pressed the hand of the general 
in silence. For a moment his eyes beamed a recognition 
to the commander. Loison left a small garrison in the 
village and pushed forward at once to effect his junction 
with the corps of General Demont. 

We will not stop to recount here how the victorious 
Massena conquered Graubünden in two days, and besieged 
the capital Chur ; how he captured the greater part of 
Auffenberg’s command and the Austrian general himself ; 
neither shall we dwell at length upon the recovery of Fla- 
vian, who of all the garrison was the only one remaining 
in Disentis ; the other officers who had been made pris- 
oners having moved away one by one for Chur, 

The skill of a French army surgeon, but perhaps more so, 
his own vigor of constitution restored Prevost to health in 
a few weeks. His wounds, which had not been very danger- 
ous, healed gradually ; but he was some time recovering 
from his prostration. In the meantime, a draft on a Basle 
business house had enabled him to attend to the renewal 
of his wardrobe, and also to provide such little comforts 
for himself as he needed. The good Benedictine Gregorius 
supplied him with books in his solitude. His chief pleas- 
ure, however, was correspondence, which he carried on 
every week with his sister. In his first letter he gave her 
an account of the series of cruel mishaps which had driven 
him back to Disentis. A few extracts from his corre- 
spondence may serve to explain, in his own words, the cu- 
rious position and relations of the young man. 


XXVI. 


EXPLANATIONS. 

“ O O the widow’s weeds have fallen to your lot, at last, 
ray poor Laura ? You in the very first bloom of life, 
a widow ! ” — he wrote to his sister, as in her first answer he 
learned the news of the death of the Baron Von Schau- 
eustein. “ Could I but fly to you instead of this sheet, 
clasp you in my arms, dry your tears ! Is it then not some 
small comfort to you that I am still living, and that you 
have not at the same time to mourn your husband and 
your brother ? 

“ I am rejoiced to learn from you the sweet calmness 
of your husband’s last moments. You do not hide your 
tears. They are human, and usually flow less out of con- 
sideration for the dead than at the sundering and ruin of 
things to which we had been accustomed. All things 
change with time, and therefore it is called the best com- 
forter. Death itself is, to ray mind, as painless as birth. 
Nature is ever and universally kindly. She drops a trace 
of bitterness in her sweetest Joys; on the other hand, she 
cloaks pain and suflferiTig in a marvellous species of ease, 
which enables us even to foster the very suffering which is 
sapping away the foundations of life. 

“As soon as you' have let your house, and arranged 
everything concerning the last will of the deceased with 
his other relatives, leave castle, dwelling, and neighbor- 
hood, and everything that can remind you of the past. 

“Keligious and philosophical arguments are as power- 
less to touch grief for what is lost, as they are to mitigate 
bodily ailments. Grief is a disease of the soul, which even 


132 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


animals feel when what they are accustomed to is snatched 
from them. Leave your house, distract yourself with short 
excursions. Die yourself to what Remember, Laura, 

that you belong to me just as much as I do to you ! 

“As for my recovery, give yourself no concern about 
it. Can you not already see it in these lines, and the firm 
hand which 1 write, which you told me was so shaky in 
my first letter? I cannot, it is true, yet get out, on account 
of the raw, changeable April weather. If I could I should 
by this time be with you. But even if you were with 
me, I could get no more tender care than I am getting in 
this old-fashioned, gloomy and yet comfortable castle. 
Madame Von Castelburg, a pious, noble lady, treats me 
like a mother. For some days past, I have been permitted 
to dine with her at mid-day and spend the afternoon with 
her. There are usually a few of the clergy from the neigh- 
boring convent. They are good and really educated men, 
of very profound acquirements, even if their conventual 
training has made them a little one-sided. I am espe- 
cially pleased with the old dean Basil Veith, the humane 
pastor of Sedrun, as well as with Viglius Wenzein; but 
most of all I like my dear, aged philosopher. Father Gre- 
gorius, of whom I gave you a sketch in my first letter, the 
man who saved my life, but who makes it a point of quar- 
relling with me much in the same way that you did, love. 

“ The castle itself, although about three hundred years 
old, is a dark grey mass of stone, held in tail by the family 
of Castelburg; but really a most enjoyable house inside. It 
stands like a grey faded heap of stones close upon^he vil- 
l.-ige or market-place, upon a gentle eminence, and together 
with the outhouse is surrounded by a decayed, tumble- 
down wall. This wall is low enough to allow me a glance 
of the meadows and the distant high Alps, and also to 
a [ford me a peep at the lofty buildings of the convent. 

“ It seems strange to me that the fortune of war should 
have thrown me as a wounded prisoner into this out-of-the- 


EXPLAJ^Ta tioxs. 


133 


■\vfiy neighborhood, of which our mother was accustomed 
to speak with such marvellous enthusiasm ; where she 
spent the choicest days of her unmarried life ; where she 
received the Rose of Disentis, as you love to call it, from 
the hands of her greatest friend the Abbot Ka thome n, for 
herself and her bridegroom. But it is stüTniore stran ge 
that I believe I have once more seen here my Rose of Dis- 
entis, the medallion which I lost in Vienna, and in Elfrida’s 
hand. It may have been a dream in the delirium of fever. 
I cannot by any means shake olf my impression. It is 
perpetually forcing itself back. I am almost inclined, you 
dear, lovable enthusiast, to share your visionary ideas ; 
to believe in the voices of the spirits which you maintain 
you hear ; in the overflow of our souls into the universal 
soul of the world, by which past becomes present to us, 
the distant near, the invisible visible. Only listen, and 
although you may not be in a mood for merriment, still I 
think my vision will perhaps wring the least little smile 
from you. 

“ I have already told you that General Loison, on his 
march through Disentis, called at our old castle. If I had 
not been told so myself, I should not have known it. And 
yet they tell me that he stood at my bedside, and sympa- 
thized with me, and that I recognized him and stretched 
out my hand to him. I know nothing about it. But he w'as 
undoubtedly here. His well known signature under the 
ofticers’ address to the noble lady of the house proves that 
much. 

“ But what I really believe I do remember, upon my 
first waking from my long unconsciousness, is that strange 
vision, that fevered play of the fancy, of which I have 
already spoken. I was doubtless, at that time, hovering 
between life and death. And yet, although everything 
else has been completely wiped out of my memory, this 
one vision remains clear and Arm. 

“ One day I opened my heavy eyelids. A couple of 


134 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


sunbeams were piercing through the heavy window cur- 
tains, and in the two beams a pair of female figures 
seemed to hover over me, not very far from my bed ; tlie 
one an elderly lady, pale, her hands folded, her eyes look- 
ing down compassionately upon me, and near her, a maiden 
clothed in mourning from head to foot. Her appearance 
awaked in me neither astonishment nor curiosity, not even 
the slightest attention. I lay there in death-like repose ; 

I saw her and my eyelids dropped quite as involuntarily 
as they had opened. 

“ I cannot tell what length of time elapsed before I 
again looked up. The veiled figure stood near my bed" 
side, speechless and motionless. It seemed to be approach- 
ing. 

“ Thereupon the veil seemed to be carried, like a dark 
cloud, towards one of its shoulders. I now saw Elfrida Yon 
Marmels, as though surrounded by a bright light. The ten- 
der features were hers, but as though turned into alabaster. 
Not a muscle of the beautiful face moved. And yet glit- 
tering tears were streaming down her cheeks. The vision 
lifted its hand, drew something from its bosom and held it 
towards me. It was a medallion. It was the Rose of Dis- 
entis. The sight of it did not disturb me. Everything in 
me was cold and dead. My eyelids again fell. I had no 
thought of what had passed. Everything was wrapped in 
complete oblivion, even several days after, when I was grad- 
ually recovering, and had already somewhat regained ideas, 
speech and strength. Illi Goin then told me what had hap- 
pened to me since the night of the massacre, and where I at 
present was. 

“It was my most ardent desire to stammer my thanks 
to the lady of the house in which I had received thctender- 
est nursing. Uli, it is true, assured me she had visited me 
more than once, to inquire after my needs, and provide for 
ray comfort. But I had no recollection of her person. As 
soon as the doctor thought me sufficiently recovered, he in- 


EXPLANATIONS, 


185 


formed me of Madame Von Castelberg’s intended visit, and 
soon after, she came one afternoon to my bedside. 

“ After the first few words from her, and assurances of 
gratitude from me, I could not take my eyes otf her. For 
she was the very person I had seen near the veiled figure, 
only I could tell neither how, when, nor where ; whether . 
it was a reality or merely a fevered fancy. I tried in every 
way to make it out, but ended by becoming a puzzle to 
myself. 

‘‘‘Madame, I said half jokingly, ‘It seems to me as 
though in your presence I was again becoming delirious. 
Would you kindly feel my pulse ? ’ 

“She did so smiling, and was. of opinion my pulse was 
very regular. 

“ ‘ Then, I have certainly seen you before, just as plain- 
ly as I do this moment; the same compassionate counte- 
nance, the same form, the same dress as then.’ 

“‘When was the then?'* she said, with a sort of as- 
tonishment that I took for perplexity. 

“ ‘ Heaven knows ! ’ said I, with great eagerness : ‘ It 
seems to me as though it were a long time ago. But it 
was here in this very room. And there was a young lady 
with you in deep mourning. She belongs to Vienna where 
I knew her, — a certain Elfrida Von Marmels. Tell me, I 
beseech you : is she, was she, which I can hardly credit, in 
Disentis ? ” 

“ Madame von Castelberg looked at me with some con- 
cern, shook her head, felt my pulse and said : ‘ Do you really 
feel well ? ’ She pretended not to know what I meant, 
asked after Elfrida, went into all minutiae and finally came 
to the conclusion I had had a vision or a foreboding, a view 
of the future such as is sometimes given to the dying or to 
those stricken with nervous fever. 

“ What say you, Laura ? I’ll wager you are, wdthout 
hesitation, quite of the opinion of Madame von Castelberg. 
I dare not decide whether it was an illusion, reality, or — ” 


XXVII. 


CONTINUATION OF THE JOURNAL. 

Y letter still lies here. I have broken the seal and 



opened it, to write a line or two more ; not pre- 
cisely because I have anything of extraordinary importance 
to say, but simply to chat a little longer with you. I can- 
not spare my honest friend, Uli Goin, and I do not like 
trusting my letter to a strange hand. Communication 
between Disentis and Chur is not the safest, even in time 
of peace, to say nothing of the confusion and uncertainty 
of war-time. 

“ Everything is in a thoroughly insecure state in this 
country, more so, perhaps, than ever before. 

“ Although after Massena’s entry into Chur, a provis- 
ional government was established which voted and imme- 
diately effected our union with the Helvetian Republic, I 
have no faith in this deceptive calm. The defiant moun- 
taineers, especially the highlanders, are just as unbending 
as ever. You should just see the way in which the peas- 
ants stiffen their backs as they pass one of the French 
soldiers and look at him as though they wanted to measure 
themselves with him. You can read the deadly hatred of 
the people in every line of their countenances. 

I foresee very terrible times for these mountain val- 
leys. A battle in which the French were totally defeated 
is reported to have taken place at Stockach ; Archduke 
Charles is said to have entered Schaffhausen, to have 
issued a proclamation to the Swiss ; and disturbances and 
revolt against the French and Helvetian authorities are 
reported from the cantons. I can hardly believe it. 


CONTmUATIOX OF THE JOURNAL. 


137 


“ And yet it must be admitted that the Benedictines do 
get the first and most reliable news, and these reports have 
come from the convent. It is very remarkable that the 
good monks, who have renounced the world for the walls 
of their convent, take such delight in the concerns of the 
world, and dabble so much, and with such gusto in poli- 
tics. Thus the saints are the most eager after forbidden 
fruit. Even my dear old friend. Father Gregory, is hardly 
free from this sin, which originated in paradise. I hear 
much from him, but not as much as he knows, by a 
great deal, ‘ Bad times ’ he said, to me yesterday, with 
a mysterous look. ‘ Every hour fresh mischief is brewing ; 
at any moment a mine maybe sprung. Weigh every word 
you say, and to whom you say it.’ 

“ I have an idea of his meaning. The murder of the 
French prisoners on the night of the 4th of March will not 
go unpunished. General Massena has already threatened, 
in Chur, to reduce Disentis to a heap of ashes if the ring- 
leaders in this atrocity are not handed over to him. This 
has not increased so much the terror, as the desperation, 
and fury of the people. Since that time, men have been 
seen, at night, on the mountain paths, going from village 
to village, as though they were messengers. 

“When men meet one another they stand still and whis- 
per. Secret meetings by night in secluded hay-lofts and 
huts are spoken of. Things are ajar; there is mischief 
brewing. But do not be anxious, Laura. As far as I am 
personally concerned there is nothing to fear ; and, as long 
as the highlands are occupied by the troops of France, there 
is no danger. 

“Besides, I am in the care of the Castelbergs, one of the 
first families of these parts, and everyone knows that T am 
a Bündner, of Prsegall, whom the French seized and carried 
Avith them. Gilg Banifier and the other envoys have testi- 
fied to that. Uli Goin, and the two Benedictines speak of 


138 


THE ROSE OF D18ENTIS, 


me everywhere as a thorough-going patriot. That is suf- 
ficient. 

“ Spring is coming upon the mountains joyously in the 
song of the birds, the thunder of the falling avalanches, the 
musical uproar of the waterfalls and the mighty mountain 
streams. Everything is harmony ; while the meadows and 
pasturages up into tlie highest Alps are throwing otf their 
winter garment ; the little patches of rye and oats are 
showing their tender blades along the hill-sides ; the ma- 
ple, the fir and the alder are budding luxuriantly, and the 
stunted bushes are pushing their foliage heavenwards. 

“ I shall soon be with you Laura. My wounds are 
healed, my strength is renewed. I too have left winter 
behind, and I feel nothing but spring within myself. My 
physician commands a little prudence. But I wander about 
the old castle; I have even got, with my crutch, so far as 
the bright meadows, through the village and up the hill to 
the conventual palace of the monks. 

“Curious! The middle ages chose for the gibbet, the 
monastery and the castle the loveliest sites. From the mon- 
astery stretches away one of the sweetest and most majestic 
landscapes imaginable. It is superb to see how cloud and 
mountain, mountain and cloud, blend as it were in the azure 
vault, and below slope down in a soft green carpet right to 
the banks of the Rhine. 

“ Well, when I get to you, Laura, I will remain with you 
for good, and be as gentle as a lamb. For I can call now 
no other soul under heaven mine save your own, and none 
understands and loves you as I do. We will once again 
be the innocent children we were in the house of our moth- 
er. I bid adieu to all my wild but well meant giant’s plans. 
My hand is too weak to reconstruct the world. 

“ Don’t shake your head so incredulously. My conver- 
sion is really sincere. Fate is master ; I see it does not re- 
quire my services where I should like to give them. It has 
allotted me a smaller sphere than I thought for the play of 


CONTINUATION OF THE JOURNAL. lp,0 

my powers. Well ! I am satisfied. I have learned more, and 
gained more experience in the last few weeks than in the 
whole of my previous life j I have received severe correc- 
tion, and perhaps deserved it. But my will and intention 
were good ; and no mortal can lay claim to more, or boast 
of more, than the uprightness of his will and intentions. 
Their effect it is not his to control. The so-called gn at 
deeds of the heroes of the day are not really their deeds, 
but those of a divine disposition of things. 

“ When I was a boy, how beautiful and good the world 
seemed to me ! Pleasure and pain came and went like 
sunshine and rain ; I thought all mortals were neither 
better nor worse than myself ; I had not a suspicion of 
the detestable folly which they hide under silks and 
furs, their decorations and so-called charitable purposes, 
their uniforms and surplices ! And I heard God with 
joy everywhere, in the chestnut forests ; in the meadows 
and castles of Saglio and Castasegna, as well as on 
the dreary heights of Septoiner and Maloja. O ! happy 
time of my childish dreams ! Would that I had never 
awakened from them, or that I had died in them while 
young ! 

. “ But the awakening came when the Baron took you 
and myself from the coffin of my mother into his own 
house. A strange existence surrounded me. School drew 
up the great curtain which shrouded the past, and showed 
me a future full of bright expectations. I saw beneath me 
the ruins of thousands of bygone years ; the stars were no 
longer mere glittering lights to me, but brilliant earths 
and suns. I saw on the stage of the world the heroes of 
humanity, the martyrs, the philosophers and the saints of 
God ! I felt I belonged to them, I was transfigured. 
With what fervor I praised the reign of the divine on 
earth, ready to do my share in spreading it like one of the 
disciples of Christ. Nothing appeaia'd beyond me. I 
wanted to become a Socrates, a Columbus, a Tell, a Wash- 


140 


THE ROSE OF DI8ENTIS. 


ington, a champion of freedom and virtue. Such was the 
effect of my schooling ! 

“Ah! Laura, that was all dissipated like a vapor as 
soon as I stepped out of my dream-land into the whirl of 
the masses, and came into contact with their secular and 
ecclesiastical leaders ! I saw Vienna and Paris, London 
and Prague ; saw republics and monarchies, luxury and 
wretchedness on all sides. Diogenes, even in his time, 
went in search of a man among mortals. I too sought 
men, and only found animals, more or less wild or tame, 
cunning or stupid, masked beneath a human skin ; found 
Christian churches of wood and stone, with gold and sil- 
ver, but few Christians, and rarely a pure heart which 
beat for humanity without a shadow of selfishness. 

“I pined for a great sphere of action in which to- estab- 
lish the good ; and dreamed that I was created to be a 
reformer of the world. But position, opportunity, and 
means were denied me by fate. I should have wished to 
be a king, a prin e or a prime minister with autocratic 
power ; or, what is more far-reaching and lasting in its 
action than all these, a gifted writer, ruling the empire of 
mind. Nature and fate discarded me. Laura, I will fly 
with you into some chosen peaceful spot. There, in a 
narrower sphere, by reason and virtue we will effect some 
little human happiness, and ward ourselves from the 
onslaught of accursed passion and the idolized prejudice 
of the masses. We have head, heart and means sufficient 
for that. Laura, I come! 

“ Matters are constantly becoming more gloomy in this 
place. I am not a coward, and yet I ieel low-spirited and 
unsafe everywhere here. I frequently take walks among 
these romantic wilds in order to recover my strength, but, 
much delight as they afford me, I never take them without 
suspicious timidity. I feel as though there were a spy 
listening in every bush I pass ; as tliough from the shade 
of every mountain cleft a reckless body of landsturm would 


CONTINUA TION OF TUE JO URNAL. 1 

emerge. I could, without difficulty, lay aside the crutch 
upon which I have been hobbling about for the last five 
Aveeks or so ; but, in case of need, it is the only weapon I 
have with which to defend myself. I have no doubt that 
all this is only fright and imagination, but, really, every 
thing I see and hear carries a bad presage with it. I should 
like to fly to you, my dear Laura, before fresh misfortunes 
befall, but I can and must not leave. I am chained as 
though by a charm, and have, besides, become by my word 
of honor a kind of voluntary prisoner. 

“ So I continue my journal until the time when I shall 
pass my days under your own eyes. I repeat to you, give 
yourself no concern about me. I remain perfectly neutral 
in the silent war which is going on here, and am not want- 
ing in prudence. I hear and hold my tongue. Even my 
faithful but open-mouthed Uli shall not betray me. It is 
chiefly through him that I get at the ideas, plans and reso- 
lutions Avhich have for their object the destruction of the 
French troops. 

“ This morning, as he brought me a few books and a 
letter from the convent, containing an invitation to a walk 
with Father Gregory, who asked me to meet him on the 
road to Trons under the rocks, I saw from my warrior’s 
look that some political secret was burning his tongue. I 
carelessly asked the question which he seemed to expect. 
‘ Any news, Uli ? ’ 

“‘Ah ! ah ! captain, what is not may be. I think our 
friends, the bluecoats, will soon disappear. And by Jove ! 
they will do Avell ! Better to-day than to-morrow, if they 
don’t want bluebacks inside their bluecoats. There’s not 
a flitch in the smoke-house, nor a maiden in the village 
safe from these villains. The women folk are precious 
light-headed in any case. They surrender themselves to 
the first attack. They laugh at and mock the soldiers, 
and immediately afterwards ogle them. Yesterday I told 
Veronica Grhlfs that we should part forever if I again 


142 


TJJE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


found her coquetting with the sergeant. I can’t be stand- 
ing sentry over her every minute.’ 

“ ‘ Shame on you, Uli, for being so jealous ! ’ 

“ ‘ I am not jealous, but mistrust leads farther than con- 
fidence, especially with the women, and would preserve 
them from many an ugly mess.’ 

“ ‘ I give my word of honor, for I know what I do know, 
that if the French don’t clear out before Ascension day, we 
will help them. Need breaks iron, we are not going to put 
up with it any longer. Everywhere in Switzerland they 
are standing up against the rascals. The archduke Charles 
is^ said to be marching on Zurich, and Massena has made 
the best of his way out of Chur. Now if the kids don’t fol- 
low the goat, we will drive them after him. This much I 
can tell you, captain, and you will rejoice with me. We 
have good news; everything is arranged. Just one nod, 
and then hurrah ! Forward ! ’ 

“ * What do you mean, Uli ? ’ 

‘ Quiet ! ’ whispered Uli : ‘ it is hard to tell what wall 
here has not ears. But, I forgot ; in the castle here there 
is no danger. Well, do you see, yesterday evening, we 
were together at the major’s, taking a little drop, and there 
was a good deal of talk. In wine the tongue generally goes 
on stilts, and isn’t too cautious. One thing and another 
were let out, and just what men would keep back at other 
times, so we finally learned that there was a disguised Aus- 
trian officer in the country. The major then told us that 
orders had been given for us to hold ourselves in readiness ; 
the imperial troops had rosined their bow, and the dance 
would begin, at latest, on the first of May ! Then, between 
ouiiselves, the imperial Colonel St. Julien is to storm Lu- 
ziensteig: Lecourbe will be attacked on all sides, driven out 
of the Engadine, and from valley and mountain the land- 
sturrn will swarm forth. You too were spoken of, captain ! 
a« likely to receive a command. Everyone knows that the 
French have- got a rod in pickle for you.’ 


CONTINUATION OF THE JOURNAL. 


143 


“ ‘ I don’t know exactly how much truth there may be 
in this favorite theme of Uli Goiii, but at any rate, I am 
('ertain, as he himself says, that he hasn’t discovered a 
mare’s nest. 

“ The mountaineers are very diiferent from the inhab' 
itants of the plain : they know what is going to pass almost 
before the circumstances are themselves fairly defined. 
They want no newspapers, couriers, or expresses. One 
might almost imagine that they can scent the future as 
many animals do a storm. 

“ At the time appointed by the Benedictine, I left the 
castle in order to fulfill my engagement with the good old 
man. Just as I got outside the court-yard into the high- 
road, I met, in the meadow near the old church of St. Pla- 
cidus, a French oflicer who was lounging about. It was the 
commandant of Disentis, captain Salomon, who has a com- 
pany of troops here. lie is a really agreeable man. 

“ ‘Anything new, captain ? ’ I said. 

“ He laughed grimly, and said, ‘ How gpt anything new 
in this smoky mountain den ? No newspapers, no casino, no 
billiards ; not a traveller in the country. Qne is as much 
out of Europe as if one were living with the mandarins in 
China.’ 

“ ‘ But you are aware, captain,’ I replied, ‘ that the arch- 
duke Charles is following up his victory at Stockach ? He 
has entered Swiss territory.’ 

“ ‘ Pshaw ? he has no firm footing there ! ’ he answered. 
‘ Massena has been placed at the head of the army of the 
Danube, and that changes matters. We shall go ahead 
again. Sacr^ bleu! We are dying here of ennui. If Massena 
had had his own way, this murderers’ den of Disentis would 
long ago have been a heap of ashes, and a man would have 
stood some chance of living among decent people. I am 
expecting orders every day from General Rheinwald, in 
Chur, to burn the nest down.’ 

“‘But not to burn down the market patch?’ I ex- 


14:4 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


claimed, believing he had made a mistake. He answered 
quite dryly, ‘ Why not ? Sacr^ bleu! Have these assassins 
earned anything better, who recognize no rights either of 
individuals or nations ? You may thank your stars, citizen 
Prevost, that you got ofl’ with a couple of stabs.’ 

“ ‘ Captain,’ 1 replied, somewhat sternly, ‘ surely you 
cannot be in earnest. A punishment which smites guilty 
and innocent alike could never have been ordered by 
Massena ? ’ 

“‘No?’ replied the Frenchman with a contemptuous 
curl of the lip; ‘ and yet it was on the tapis. I know from 
headquarters precisely how things stood. As soon as he 
heard of the butchery of our men from the officers who 
escaped, he shouted out : ‘ I must have the ringleaders de- 
livered up within three days, or the priests’ nest will be 
turned into a bonfire. At the same time he sent the gen- 
eral to the president of the government. And then ? The 
poor governors shivered with terror. They went in 
a body to headquarters, promised inquiry, discovery, 
speedy information, and begged and besought for delay, 
for a reprieve — and— /br once General Massena was 
weak.’ 

“ I concealed my anger at these words. What effect 
could any representation have had upon a man who was a 
mere soldier and nothing more, a cold sword-hilt in the 
hand of his master. After a few commonplace civilities 1 
left him, but you may imagine, Laura, with what feelings ! 
Everything which could make the world worth living for 
was as though crushed in my breast, love, faith, hope. For 
what I heard, first from my Tavetscher, and afterwards 
from this Frenchman, showed me the near future in very 
bloody colors. I will not entertain you with my sorrow for 
this poor lovely land, which, surrounded as it is by the high- 
est Alps, ought, seemingly, to be the abode of eternal peace, 
but is destined to be the theatre of fresh atrocities ; this 
land where creation, which proclaims God at every step, i^ 


CONTINUATION OF THE JOURNAL. 


145 


blasted, as it were, by human brutality, eager for liellish 
destruction. 

“ I left the officer, and made my way down to the 
enormous rocks which have been shivered from the moun- 
tain peak by some terrible convulsion of nature, many 
thousands of years ago. The gigantic ruins lay upon and 
near the high road, covered with thick moss and studded 
with fir trees. As soon as I reached them I saw the white- 
liaired Benedictine waiting for me. We hastened to meet 
each other, and chose a block of stone for a seat. 

“ I will give you an account of our conversation and of 
what occurred during it. I must tell you, in order to 
excuse the delay of a few more days which I have pur- 
l^osely made in Disentis.” 

7 


XXVIII. 


LAST CONTINUATION OF THE JOURNAL, 

rr^HIS Benedictine is indeed more than a monk ; more 
than a mere scholar, more than an experienced, 
clever man of the world. He is as lovable as Minerva in 
Mentor’s form; the living personification of wisdom. His 
conversation has been more instructive and profitable to 
me than all the lectures of the Vienna professors. To him 
I owe it that I am beginning to understand myself and the 
world better. 

“ When we sat down, he remained silent, as though lost 
in thought : he then took my hand in his and said : ‘ Are 
you in earnest about leaving, my young friend ? ’ 

“ ‘ Why not ? ’ was my answer : ‘ You see me completely 
out of place. I cannot longer remain a burdensome guest 
to Madame Yon Castelberg, and my widowed sister is ex- 
pecting me in her solitude. Of all the idlers here I am 
the one that can best be spared.’ 

“ ‘ Not so well as your modesty induces you to believe, 
captain. A man with a head and heart like yours is in 
his right place whatever position he may choose in the 
world ; he is everywhere necessary, and cannot be foregone 
by others without loss to them. Stay a few days longer 
with us. I have been commissioned to request you. I can- 
not and must not tell you all that ought to induce you ; 
one thing I may say, and that is, that the duty which calls 
you away can hardly be gi’eater than the duty which bids 
you still tarry a few days in the house of Castelberg ?’ 

‘“You will allow, however,’ I replied, ‘ that the smallest 


LAST CONTINUATION OF THE JOURNAL. 147 


known duty is of more importance than the greatest un- 
known one.’ 

“‘You are right, my friend. If, however, I am de- 
serving of your confidence, believe me this once. I do not 
ask for myself, but for other important personages who, in 
these unsettled times, need your protection. They are per- 
sons whose honor, life and property have been endangered 
by me, and whom you can save ; persons who beseecli you 
to do so and whom, at the right time, you shall know. 
Were you to gainsay their wish, you would perhaps be 
sacrificing your peace of mind for ever,’ 

That is a strong expression ! Who, in all Disentis, 
could be indebted to me for protection and deliverance ? 
Surely not your convent ? ’ 

“ ‘ No, my dear friend, I am speaking for my convent 
as little as I am for myself. Surely, Madame Von Castel- 
berg has some claim upon you, she, your saviour, your 
devoted nurse, to-day without a protector, her husband in 
exile, abandoned by her blood relatives. Rumors are rife 
of an imminent and general attack upon Bünden by the 
Austrians. I fear the peasants will not remain passive 
spectators of the struggle. Only the Almighty knows 
how the dice will fall. If the French gain possession of all 
the Bündner valleys, then woe to those who rose against 
them. If the Austrians are victorious then woe — ’ 

“ ‘Not another word,’ I replied. ‘You are right ! I am 
ashamed not to have better remembered my obligation to 
a benefactress who has eternal claims upon me. 

“ ‘ I owe the lady my life, for which I cared very little ; 
and indeed do now ; and it will perhaps only really have a 
little worth when I can sacrifice it to some sacred duty.’ 

“‘My son! no such expressions! You are unjust to 
yourself and to the world. I have loved you ever since 
the dreadful night when you so heroically risked your own 
life for that of the poor French ofiicer. Since then I have 
got to know you better. With my admiration of your 


148 


THE It08E OF DISENTIS. 


exalted character, my desire to see you hapj)y increased. 
Your wounds are healed, hut your mind is sick, eery sick. 
You are not happy, and this possibly through one of tlie 
little errors to which you will allow me, perhaps, to refer as 
a father to a son. I know more of you than you are aware, 
more perhaps than you do yourself. You are not happy ; 
you were not happy either in the house of the Countess 
Yon Schauenstein, in your relations in Vienna, and will not 
be possibly for many a day, it^ — ’ 

“ ‘ I must interrupt you, sir,’ I answered. ‘ Did you 
know me previously ? Or did I give you any insight into 
my past during the delirium of my fever? Your expressions 
cause me some astonishment. Of what error do you speak ? 
What can you know or what can you have learned of my 
life in the Schauenstein mansion, or of my residence in 
Vienna ? I made no great mistake, to my knowledge, still 
less did I commit myself in any way. I enjoyed, too, some 
blessed hours ! ’ 

“ ‘ Are you thinking, my young friend — Here the 
Benedictine leaned towards me with a confidential, but 
somewhat roguish look, and whispered quietly ; ‘ of the 
Rose of Disentis ? ’ 

“ Imagine my consternation, my dear Laura, at hearing 
these words from the inmate of a convent whom I had only 
known a few weeks, to whom I had never spoken of our 
former circumstances, and least of all of my own. I gave 
him a blank look, and stammered out a few questions. 
He did not give me an opportunity of finishing, but touch- 
ed me lightly on the shoulder as though to silence me, and 
continued : ‘ Come, don’t ask any more questions ; I am 

and must remain, dumb. I only wanted by that signifi- 
cant pass-word to show you that not only your ideas but 
also your past are familiar to me. I am attached to you, I 
should like to see you happy ; you deserve to be so, and 
still you are not.’ 

“ ‘ If I am not,’ I quickly answered with something of 


LAST CONTIAIUA TION OF THE JO ÜBHAL. I49 

proud self-conscionsness, ‘believe me, it is in no manner 
owing to that of which you have just reminded me. Cer- 
tainly not ! I should be ashamed of any such cause as that 
which you probably meant by my sickness.’ 

“ ‘ By no means ! I meant another sickness,’ he said ; 
‘ which possibly you take for health, and which will never 
allow you to live happily for yourself or for others. You 
are seeking the good, and, on all hands, you meet nothing 
but evil. You would have men around you formed after 
the divine ideal of your own mind, and everywhere you 
are laughed at, ridiculed and hated. You wish to perform 
the greatest things, and you do not succeed in effecting the 
least. Therefore it is that you are wretched in the very 
depths of your soul.’ 

“ ‘ What,’ I replied, ‘ do you call enthusiasm for absolute 
purity sickness ? Can a man of your solid piety be happy 
in the midst of general demoralization, a man of your 
mental powers be contented in the focgs of every species 
of barbarity, superstition and unnaturalness which man- 
kind has been accumulating to its own misery for thou- 
sands of years? by which it has been digging its own 
grave ? Can you really ? I can not. Look for a moment 
at the multitude of what are called rational creatures bear- 
ing the name of man, endowed like ourselves with reason, 
with an idea of the divine, who still live like irrational ani- 
mals, trample the divine in the dust and deify the earthly; 
crucify virtue, and shackle truth, but erect monuments to 
the destroyers of nations, to political gamesters and bawds. 
Look from the African cannibal to the German, the English- 
man, and the Frenchman, everywhere, with few exceptions 
you encounter nothing but plain, animal self-seeking, the 
greed of sensual and animal enjoyment, the craving after 
the means to attain them. Look around you ! The animals 
crawl and swim in freedom, securely guided by their in- 
stinct, but nations are shut up in huge prisons yclept con- 
stitutional states, in which the aggregate power, property, 


150 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


talent, belief and rights of millions of subjects are subser- 
vient to the convenience and enjoyment of a few secular 
and ecclesiastical fellow-creatures.’ 

“‘Look in our immediate neighborhood! War and 
the shout of battle ! Nation set against nation for death 
and destruction ; killing each other according to the laws 
of strict discipline, and after the most approved scientific 
methods. No, no, I cannot have any part in such a world !’ 

The white-haired Benedictine smiled at me, as I finished, 
with the good-natured irony of a father who has just heard 
Ins child give free expression to something foolish, imag- 
ining at the same time he was saying something very 
profound. ‘Well, my dear friend,’ he continued: ‘You 
want us, I suppose, to understand that you are too good 
for a world like ours ? How supposing I should maintain 
that you are not good enough for it ? You are dissatisfied 
that men will not fall in with your ideas, but it is your 
duty to take maijiind as they are. And in the meantime, 
God will have to put up with the reproach of having placed 
you in a world in which either you are, or intend to be, 
good for nothing.’ 

“ ‘ I should not like to be misunderstood by you,’ I con- 
tinued, ‘ perhaps I have — ’ 

“‘Not at all,’ he resumed. ‘I did not intend to be 
so hard, and I think I have thoroughly understood you. 
Your opinion of our present state of barbarity was the 
truthful outpouring of an unsullied youthful mind, of the 
conscience which God has given to man. But listen 1 
Reason it is which makes us superior to the brutes. It 
awakes and acts in the child even before understanding, or 
the comprehension of other relations. Understanding is the 
product of experience. Thus it comes that young people 
often err in their judgment by applying the rule of what is 
absolutely true to reality which is only conditionally 
true and right. Consequently, the opinion of inexperi- 
enced youth is at times more conformable to reason and 


LAST CONTINUATION OF TEE JOURNAL. 151 


wiser than that of many old people. Hence it comes, too, 
that, not unfrequently, the wisest men make great public 
blunders, and that the keenest and most acute men of the 
world act irrationally and without conscience.’ 

“ ‘ And what might be the precise application in my 
case ? ’ I inquired. 

“ ‘ You are a young man, my dear friend, of strong 
intellect, pining for justice and truth, but as yet inexperi- 
enced. Hence your notion of being a universal reformer. 
You cannot reconcile yourself to what seems repugnant to 
pure reason. I cannot blame you : remain as you are, a 
spotless child until old age. Your fault is the splendid 
failing of all young men of sterling and noble character. 
But be careful not to attempt the part of a violent reformer, 
as many young men of our day would, before they have 
learned by experience how to adapt themselves to the 
infinite varieties of human character, and to lead men 
gently, and by slow degrees, to what is noble. Do not 
ask ignorant children to become learned men on a sudden. 
Let your light shine in the darkness, if you will, but do 
not turn it into the torch of the incendiary.’ 

“I acknowledge, Laura, that I was somewhat taken 
aback at this answer. A species of truth was upon the face 
of it, of which I had, at times, felt the approach, but which 
seemed to me to be in direct contradiction with sound rea- 
son. At first, I hardly knew what to answer. Finally, I 
took refuge in a question which smacked of contradiction, 
and said : ‘ Has then the spectacle of human guilt and 
madness never aroused in you a righteous anger ? ’ 

“ ‘ My son,’ he answered quietly, ‘ call no anger righteous! 
According to my notions, there is no such thing as a, holy 
unholiness ; and according to my experience, there are, it is 
true, bad men, but there are none who are unjust and bad out 
of sheer love for injustice and wickedness. Every man wish- 
es to preserve at least the semblance of goodness ; is desir- 
ous of justifying his misdeeds ; or, if he cannot do that, of 


152 


TUE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


excusing them under plea of the pressure of circumstances. 
The interior man is, in all mortals, better than the exterior. 
The inner man craves for truth, right and goodness ; he 
cannot help it. But the exterior, the corporeal man is, by 
very reason of his body, in conflict with the interior man, 
through a thousand illusions, passions and tricks of the senses, 
which he has in common with the animals. Still, although 
sometimes late, he ever falls back upon his higher nature.’ 

“ ‘Your years,’ I replied, ‘certainly give you an advan- 
tage over me in the matter of judging men. Is it not, how- 
ever, possible that you have seen the better, and I the worse 
side of mankind ? ’ 

“ ‘ My dear captain, every man has both sides in him- 
self ; and he who closely observes the secret springs and 
motives of his own actions is on the road to a general 
knowledge of mankind. It is irue, no mortal ever arrived 
at a i)erfect kiiowieage and appreciation of individual men. 
iiL'üce so much misunderstanding and heartless, rash judg- 
ment of others. To you, too, my dear friend, 1 give this 
item of advice, for the sake of vour own peace : treat every 
man according to fit» way ot thinking and feeling, and not 
according to your own; otherwise you will never be un- 
derstood by others. You will lose their confidence, and 
with it, the power of influencing them. And yet, you de- 
sire that influence, and wish to be loved and understood by 
others.’ 

“ ‘ But, you do not want me, for the sake of others, to 
play the hypocrite, and to abdicate my own individuality ? ’ 

“ ‘Not at all; do not mistake me. I only advise you 
to have just as much consideration for others as you de- 
mand for yourself, and not, according to your ovm view, to 
demand from everyone else that he should feel, think and 
believe just as you do yourself; in a word, not to live with- 
out any regard for the peculiarities of others, hugging 
yourself in quiet self-satisfaction ; but to subdue yourself \\\ 
word and deed. Just as the spirit of the poet commands. 


LAST CONTINUATIOIT OF THE JOURNAL. 


153 


in self-restraint, the storm of feeling which he breathes into 
others, and rules that storm and himself, so as not to be 
overpowered ; so, in ordinary life, every man who would 
iniluence others must have his eyes quite as intent upon 
himself as upon them. 

“ ‘ The hand should never be off the rein, not with the 
best friend, not with the one most loved. I live in myself 
alone, no other can live within me ; but every other lives 
in his own interior, and is thereby another ; judges me 
according to his own interior alone, and unless I can throw 
myself completely into his ways of thought, understands 
me a wrong.’ 

“ My dear Laura, it is just possible that I have hardly 
given ■jrou the exact concluding words of the good Benedic- 
tine rightly ; for my attention was attracted suddenly to a 
very different object. At this moment, there came in 
view, on the road, one of the little carrioles used in this 
country, with wheels hardly two feet high, drawn by a lean 
little horse that picked his way over the steep, rocky road 
with the agility of a cat. A peasant woman was seated in 
the carriole, another was walking beside an aged driver^ 
chatting to him. The one on foot was a young woman 
of beautiful form and distinguished bearing, with a red 
bodice, red stockings, linen armlets, blue skirt and a blue 
striped apron ; a delicate lemon silk neckerchief hung 
loosely over her shoulders. Do not laugh at my minute 
description of her; I am giving it really more for myself 
than for you. 

“ The nearer the peasant approached, the more I was 
astonished at her gracefulness ; her finely-formed head, 
gently inclined on one side, covered with a black veil, 
fringed with flowers and half hiding her spotlessly white 
forehead with its delicate lace-work, under which could be 
detected the sheen of her golden hair ; then her lovable, 
chaste face, with downcast eyes under a pair of high, proudly 
arching eyebrows; her little mouth like a pomegranate blos- 

7 * 


154 


TUE ROSE OF RISER TIS, 


som, and beneath, the still smaller chin under which the 
black silk strings of her head-dress were tied, — Laura, it was 
a face, I swear, exactly like that of Elfrida Von Marmels. In 
all my life, I have never seen a more striking resemblance. 
As the carriole passed out, the peasant woman in the con- 
veyance saluted us from below, so did the driver and the 
young woman. The latter held her head down. 

“ I was wild was about to leap down ; bethought my- 
self of my folly ; and, nevertheless, gazed after the carriole 
which soon disappeared behind the colossal masses of 
rock. I turned hastily round to the Benedictine, to ask 
him who the peasant women were and to what place they 
belonged. 

“ The question died on my lips through another surprise. 
The countenance of the Benedictine was flushed, and a 
curious embarrassment was noticeable in his eyes and move- 
ments. What ! Can beauty set age on fire, and foregone 
love steal even behind consecrated walls ? I dare not, I 
will not suppose that — ” 


XXIX. 


A PRISON SCENE. 

I ^LAYIAN had got thus far with his letter to his sister. 

He did not finish it. For he was, first of all, interrupted 
by an unexpected visit from Captain Salomon, and, later, 
he was prevented from finishing it by a combination of 
very unlooked-for dangers. 

“ I beg your pardon for interrupting you ! ” said cap- 
tain Salomon on entering : “ but, sacre bleu^ to whom else 
shall I go ? The black-gowns up there in their nest might 
do me a service, and I should like to ask them, but then the 
devil himself could not trust them in this business, just at 
present. I fear they are much more congenially employed 
in hatching their basilisk eggs.” 

“ And how can I serve you ? ” said Flavian. 

“You are perhaps aware,” said the commandant, “ that 
a detachment of my company is quartered at Sedrun. Yes- 
terday, I got wind that there was to be a secret meeting 
of the peasants by night, in the neighborhood of Sedrun, in 
one of the mountain huts. I gave the officer in Sedrun or- 
ders. He went to work, got his men out without any noise, 
slipped them one by one out of the village, and surrounded 
the hut about midnight. Either some imprudent noise, or 
a spy had betrayed our men. The officer found the nest 
empty ; the footfalls of the runaways were heard. Our 
soldiers gave chase, and picked up two of the rascals, who 
have been brought prisoners to Disentis. I must hold an 
inquiry. Sacre bleu / how can a man examine fellows who 
can neither speak nor understand any human language like 


156 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


other people? And I can’t send them to Chur without 
first finding out who they are, and what they were at. 

“I must make a report. In the meantime, the fellows 
are in prison, but kept separate. So, my dear captain, you 
see I fall back upon you. I want you just to inquire after 
them, so as at least to get me their names, and where they 
live. If you can get at anything more, so much the bet- 
ter ! To-morrow, I’ll have the ruihans taken to Chur, where 
they will be shot. But a report must accompany them. 
Will you for once, kindly act as my ^juge (T histruction ’ 
and interpreter ? ” 

This was certainly not a very pleasant commission for 
Flavian. The word “ ” was the one that fell harshest 

on his ear. To be a traitor to his countrymen, and to hand 
over men who had acted inconsiderately, perhaps, but out 
of a blind love of country, to a French court-märtial, in 
other words, to death, was not at all to his liking. On the 
other hand, he did not think it prudent to lay himself open 
to suspicion by refusing the captain’s request. After a little 
reflection, during which he had asked an indifferent ques- 
tion or two, hardly listening to the answers, he consented, 
and followed the officer into the prison. 

The commandant had the prison opened by his subaltern, 
and, as he could not understand a word of the forthcoming 
examination, went his way, upon the captain’s promise to 
proceed with it. 

Flavian found one of the captives seated in a corner of 
the damp, narrow room, securely pinioned, with his arms 
li anging listlessly by his sides. This man did not move. 
Flavian was however shocked on discovering in tlie 
broad-shouldered, stalwart form, no otlier than Gilg Danif- 
fer, whose acquaintance he had made on that terrible 
March night. 

“What ? ” he exclaimed, “ Gilg, is it you ? Fear noth- 
ing. I am your friend and countryman ! ” 

The prisoner slowly raised his head, brushed aside 


A PBISO]^ SCENE. 


157 


the tangled, white hair from his brow, looked at the young 
man inquiringly, and growled : “ Aha ! lad, that you? still 
alive then ? What do you want here ? Do you want to pay 
me out for ray bad treatment of you the other uight, or 
are you a prisoner like myself? ” 

“ I have to subject you to an examination, Gilg. The 
commandant has commissioned me to do so, as the French 
understand neither Romanetsch nor German.” 

“ Tell them they’ll learn enough German in a couple of 
days. We’ll make it as clear as daylight to them with 
our spiked maces. But I should never have thought, lad, 
that you would take to serving God and the devil. Get 
out of this, you Mameluke ! ” 

“No ! Gilg ! do not mistake me. I hope to save you, 
that’s the reason why I have undertaken this business. 
According to him, you are to be taken to Chur to-morrow 
with another prisoner. I am anxious to prevent that ; I 
want to gain time for you. Trust to me. Keep calm. 
Leave things to me. Adieu! ” 

“Stop! lad! where are you going? I almost believe 
you do mean honestly by me. You do well, too, upon my 
poor soul ! For, to-morrow, I hope to be free without 
your help, and to march on Chur in more considerable 
company than the commandant will care for. Take my 
■word. Enough ! this is the last day of April.” 

“ It is, but I do not understand you ! ” 

“ Ail right, lad ! You have too honorable looking a 
face for an ungrateful traitor or a spy. You will soon see 
the last day of the French. Get them to leave me in this 
diity hole at least over to-morrow^ You’ll lose nothing 
by it. Give me your hand upon it. I don’t say anything 
more.” 

“ Trust me, Gilg ! Is there anything else you want ? ” 
“Certainly! These French wdnd-bags think a man lives 
on air. I’m fasting ; get me something to eat, even if it 
is no better than what I treated you to twm months ago. 


158 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


Listen ! if you are an honorable fellow, come again to- 
night into this rats’ nest, and let me know what is going 
on outside. I’ll test you by that ! Do you understand ? ” 

“ I will, Gilg. Keep up your courage. Good-bye ! I 
will see if I can comfort your companion in misfortune. Is 
he as good a fellow as you ? ” 

“ I should think so, and a deal better, my poor soul on 
it! than many a Bündner rogue. He came in the name of 
Colonel St. Julien to — Be very polite to him, my lad, he’s 
not one of the common grit like ourselves ! He is a dis- 
tinguished gentleman, an Austrian nobleman, who has 
risked life and limb for this poor Bündner land and his 
emperor. I am sorry for him. Get him put into better 
quarters, and have him well fed. He is, between ourselves, 
a Marquis, and not accustomed to rotten cheese like we 
are.” 

“ What is his name ? ” 

“ If you have money, boy, make him comfortable and 
don’t spare it. He will repay you tenfold. He is the 
]\larquis,” — here Gilg whispered so as to be barely heard, 
“ the Marquis Malariva. Do you understand? The French 
bloodhounds haven’t got scent of him yet in Chur.” 

Flavian was unpleasantly astounded at hearing the 
name ‘ Malariva.’ “ He here ? ” he cried, and every drop of 
blood in him became as though on fire, and every fibre 
quivered. 

“ He is in my power ! ” said a wild, exulting interior 
voice He immediately reproved himself for this vengeful 
feeling. 

“ Certainly, comrade,” said Daniffer, not perceiving the 
emotion of the young man ; “ and if the gentleman can 
only keep body and soul together until to-morrow, please 
God, he’ll live many years to come. Do you know him ? ” 

“ I will see him, and do what I can for him as well as 
for you,” said Prevost, retiring abruptly as a soldier made 
his appearance, with the prisoner’s wretched mid-day meal. 


A FJ^JSOjV scene. 


159 


The subaltern locked the prison, which was double guarded, 

I and led the newly fledged ’‘^juge iV instruction ” to another 
j house. He showed him into a room very much like a stable, 
in which the shrunken form of the Marquis Malariva could 
be discerned moving about like a ghost in the dim light, 
that struggled through the wooden shutters. 

“ Good morning, Marquis ! ” said the captain to him, 
on entering ; “ This is certainly the place for the wish ; 
the last however, in which I should have thought of meet- 
ing you.” 

The prisoner stood as though petrified, and looked 
gloomily at him. “ You ? sir ! ” he finally stammered out, 
after a lengthy struggle for words, with choked voice. 
Then, quickly recovering his composure, he added in an al- 
most proud tone ; 

“ What brings you here ? By whose orders do you 
appear here ? ” 

“ Perhaps by command of your good angel. Sir Mar- 
quis ! ” 

“ To judge from the envoy I should hardly think so. 
Speak, Mr. Prevost ! I am prepared for any fate. I am in 
the power of the enemy whom you seem to be serving 
against your own country.” 

“ No insults to your previous ones, Sir Marquis ! I am 
nowise obliged to give a man like you any account of my 
doings. So much, however, be said ; I obey neither the 
French nor your emperor, but my own conscience. Since 
you are supposed not to understand French, I have been 
deputed to act as interpreter, and to ask who you are and 
what is your business with these peasants in their nocturnal 
assemblies.” 

“ Your exterior has already betrayed you to the French, 
as an Austrian emissary and agitator. Besides, I know 
you. You are the pretended Austrian officer who was to 
have been sent by Colonel St. Julien. I know it and can 
surmise the rest.” 


160 


THE ROSE OF D1SENTI8. 


‘‘ Surmise, sir, is not proof ! ” said Malariva, who felt a 
slight sinking at the heart, “ but go on.” 

“ What remains to be said is not very encouraging, as 
you may readily imagine. You are to be court-martialled, 
and sent to-morrow with Gilg Daniffer to Chur, where you 
will be sentenced by a council of war, with what result 
you probably know.” 

“ Council of war ? court-martial ? ” exclaimed the 
Marquis, sinking, as though wounded, upon a bench. Then 
there was a pause. Flavian stepped up to him, and shook 
him out of the bewilderment which had come upon him, 
saying: “Don’t lose all courage, Marquis! Don’t judge 
my way of thinking by your own in Vienna. If there is 
any way of doing it, I will save you from certain death.” 

“You? — can you ? — Do you think?” gasped the Mar- 
quis, half-dead with fright, raising his hands towards Fla- 
vian, in an attitude of supplication. 

“ Take courage. Marquis, I tell you ! It will be no 
great difficulty for you to disguise yourself. You must 
assume the air and tone of an innocent pedler, who acci- 
dentally got among the peasants here, in the confusion of 
war. I have completed my plan. You and Daniffer 
will, I hope, be saved, if any such thing is at all possible.” 

“Daniffer? So he has betrayed me, the scoundrel?” 
exclaimed Malariva : “ Curse the moment when I trusted 
myself with him among these mountains, on our flight from 
Chur, the faithless vagabond ! But, noblest Prevost, for- 
get the past ! Let us be friends ! Be my deliverer, my sav- 
iour ! My gratitude to you will extend to all I have and 
am. Trust my words for this once only ! Our unfortunate 
difference in Vienna was the result of the most deplorable 
misunderstanding on my part. Forgive it, forget it, my 
dear Prevost ! 

“No more about that ! ” said Flavian, interrupting 
him : “Still, answer me one question honestly. I know 
that you maligned me to the police, and swore falsely 


A PRISON SCENE. 


161 


against me. I am convinced, sir, that to you and to no 
Ollier, I am indebted for my expulsion from the house of 
the Baroness Grienenburg : that — ” 

Malariva sprang up, and, taking Flavian’s hand in his, 
exclaimed : “ By God, and all his saints, I swear to you 
you are mistaken ! Why have I incurred your suspicion ? 
I am a nobleman, and will, on my soul, honestly explain 
everything.” 

“ Then tell me ; did you really hand over to Mademoi- 
selle Von Marmels the embroidery which I delivered to 
you sealed up, or — ” 

“ The embroidery ? certainly, certainly I did, dear 
Mr. Prevost. Certainly ! If I am not mistaken, it was a 
purse. The lady seemed at first offended, but ended by 
taking it, put it in her pocket, and kept it.” 

“ Here it is ! ” said Flavian, with lowering countenance, 
pulling out the purse embroidered by Eifrida, and holding 
it out under the eyes of the Marquis. 

“ Right ! my dear friend, quite right ! You remind 
me ! ” continued Malariva without the least sign of embar- 
rassment : “ she threw it down at my feet. I picked it up. 
I was about to give it back to her. But just as we—” 

“ And then you made a present of other people’s prop- 
erty to a low girl, a certain Nancy. Liar I deny it if you 
can ! ” 

“ What ? Nancy ? Never ! What do you take me for ? 

She was, it is true, in my service, but, I beg you 

the girl probably took it out of one of the drawers of my 
desk ! I preserved it, on my honor, like a relic.” 

“ The miserable wretch ! he lies even now, with death 
staring him in the face ; ” muttered Flavian, turning away 
in disgust, and making for the door. The Marquis sprang 
after him, pale and trembling, threw himself on the ground, 
and clasped Flavian’s knees. “ For the love of God’s 
mercy,” he gasped, in a choking voice, don’t desert me ! 
Save me ! What do you want ? I will sacrifice whatever 


1G2 


TUE ROSE OF DISEUTIS. 


you like to you. You love Mademoiselle Yon Marmels. I 
am her guardian. You, and no other, shall receive her 
from me ; her whole property, and the whole estate of the 
Baroness Grienenburg ; everything ! everything ! ” 

“ Estate ? Is the Baroness dead then ? ” said Flavian in 
astonishment. 

“ Yes, she died in Karlsbad, at the end of last year* 
But, time flies ! there is not a moment to lose ! Do not 
desert me ! Only this once, don’t forsake me ! ” 

“ And what has become of Elfrida Von Marmels?” 
said Flavian : stand up, tell the truth ! ” 

The Marquis rose, trembling in every limb, and said : 
“ When I went to the army of the archduke, I was told — 
it was several weeks afterwards, that Elfrida Von Marmels 
had left Vienna and gone, no one knew where. It is 
thought she is gone to a friend’s in Moravia. We shall 
learn when I get back to ... . Save me from the hands 
of the French! You can do it! You are too noble, too 
merciful to ... . and my eternal gratitude ! Do not hand 
me over to this frightful fate ! ” 

Flavian turned away with loathing from the form of 
the doomed man, promised to do what he could, and left. 


XXX. 


THE COMMANDANT. 



APTAIX Salomon was sitting, at mid-day, at a well 


stocked table, with a glass of the convent wine in his 
hand, when his interpreter walked into the room, to give an 
account of his examination of the prisoners. 

“ Sit down, citizen Prevost,” said the commandant, his 
face flushed with wine, filling his guest a glass out of a 
newly opened bottle : “ Come, citizen, take a drink of the 
liquid, fiery gold ! The cellarer of the abbey understands 
his business. And now tell me about the birds we have in 
the cage.” 

“ A splendid catch, captain ! ” said Flavian : “ We 

must tame them, and get them rid of their timidity, so that 
they may sing better. What I have extracted from them 
is the following : the younger is a German, a travelling 
dealer, who, I believe, sells Swiss cheese, and got seized by 
the peasants as he was about to leave Urseren ; the other 
is a feeble old man, almost in his dotage, belonging to 
Rueras in the Tavetsch valley. They were both too terri- 
fied and famished to allow of my getting anything more 
out of them. The younger one ofiers to tell us what went 
on in the peasants’ meeting, if we give him time to remem- 
ber everything that passed, and to allow him as a stranger, 
to prosecute his journey. I will, therefore, see them both 
again this evening, if you like.” 

“Just the thing,” said the commandant, “ don’t spare 
any eloquence. Promise everything the scoundrels ask 
for. To-morrow they may keep just as much of your prom- 
ises in Chur as they choose. It’s all the same to me.” 


164 


TUE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 




“ Captain, not too fast ! ” said the examiner : “ Keep | 

them here to-morrow. We must get the whole of their se- 
cret from them, so that the report may contain something ji 
more important than the mere names of men, one of whom I 
is in a position to prove in Chur that he was on lawful busi- f 
ness. Follow my advice. You will gain all the more 
credit by it.” 

The commandant shook his head thoughtfully and an- 
swered : “ On the one hand you may be right. But among | 
these rebels is a bad place to keep fellows : the prisons are 1 
i nsecure, and things are daily looking blacker all through j 
the country ! ” 

“For that very reason, captain,” said Flavian: “one 
of the prisoners has acknowledged that in the peasants’ ’ 
meeting the report was bruited of a general assault of the 
Austrians upon St. Luziensteig. If that be true, your re- 4 
port, supposing they have a battle, will reach Chur at the J 
very worst possible time, and you will run the risk of los- 1 
ing your prisoners on the way by a coup de main on the ^ 
part of the peasants. You certainly cannot send them 
under a strong guard. Let us wait until we hear to-day 
or to-morrow the thunder of the cannon from the east. In 
that case — ” 

Sacre hleu!'''* shouted captain Salomon: “the Aus- 3 
trians dare not. We are strong, and splendidly en- J 
trenched ! ” 


The dialogue lasted some time without producing any 
perceptible change of opinion on either side. Still, Flavian 
was satisfied at seeing the commandant somewhat shaken 
in his first resolution. He laid his plans in consequence, ^ 
hoping that IJli Coin would be a powerful auxiliary in . 
carrying them out. 

When he got back to the castle, he looked high and 
low lor the usually zealous IJli. But he was nowhere to be 
found in the village. Flavian was bothered ; for, without 
his assistance, any attempt at their rescue was not to be 


TUE COMMANDANT. 


1G5 


thought of. irii knew every path in the land by which they 
could escape in safety, and had friends enough, if stratagem 
was of no avail, to force the prison. The day waned, but 
no Uli Goin appeared. 

Prevost again went to the prisoners to impart hopes 
which were fast dying out in his own breast. He disclosed 
his plans, taught them the parts they had to piay, as well 
ibefore the commandant, as before anyone else who might 
be present at their examination. 

The Marquis Malariva sat, as he had during the morn- 
ing, in dull annihilation, hardly hearing Flavian’s words, 
but stretching out his hands, from time to time, in dumb 
jshow, towards his interlocutor. On the contrary, Gilg Dan- 
liffer had lost none of the cool defiance with which he looked 
I -with equal indifference on his death sentence as upon his 
liberation. 

He gave his young friend a great deal of advice, and 
several hints for the successful carrying out of his design, 
and ended with the words : “ If the cursed commandant 

only leaves me a whole skin another four and twenty hours, 
then, my brave lad, he will taste the knife himself, and you 
will have to go to no further trouble.” 

The commandant, however, notwithstanding all that 
Prevost urged to the contrary, remained immovable in his 
resolution not to keep the prisoners another day. He had 
already detailed their guard for the next morning, and 
laughed at the fears of the captain of rifles. “ My soldiers 
have received strict orders to fire on any peasants that at- 
tempt the rescue of the prisoners,” said he, “and also to 
shoot them down, in such case, whether they attempt tO' 
escape or not ; in any case, they shall not get the scoun- 
drels alive. And there the matter rests ! ” 

It was late in the evening when Flavian returned to the 
castle : he inquired in vain for Uli Goin. He saw the im- 
possibility of making any successful night attempt without 
the Tavetscher’s help. Still, as he had determined, at all 


166 


THE ROSE OP DI8ENTI8. 


costs, to save them from the certain death which awaited 
them at the hands of the French, he resolved to anticipate 
them the following morning, on the road to Ilanz and Chur, 
to get men together, spare no expense, and surprise their 
military guard. 

Malariva’s danger he cared less about. Him he de- 
spised. Still, the hope of repaying his villany in Vienna 
by magnanimity did his proud heart good. It was of much 
more importance in his eyes to prevent old Gilg Daniffer 
from falling into the hands of a French court-martial : tlie 
man to whom lie was himself indebted, and who had revolt- 
ed against the oppressors of his country purely out of 
blind and overpowering love for her. The distance to 
Chur, fully twelve leagues, gave him some hope. The 
French would certainly have to make at least one night’s 
halt. 

To be ready for starting at any moment in the morn- 
ing, he prepared clothes and money ; presents for the 
castle servants ; a note with a few words of farewell to 
the good Benedictine. He was just about to seek the mis- 
tress of the house, and thank her for her motherly care, 
when one of the maids announced to him Madam Von 
Castelberg’s desire to see him. 


XXXI. 


A FEE8E row. 



HE wife of the head of the Confederation, Madam Yon 


^ Castelberg, who belonged to the distinguished family 
of Capol, received her guest with her wonted air of defer- 
ence. Still, there was, this time, perceptible in her manner a 
certain uneasiness and confusion which she in vain endeav- 
ored to conceal. Although not young, she was still a well 
preserved woman, and united, with all the dignity common 
to those of her rank, a simplicity and homeliness of demean- 
or which, at that time, were distinguishing virtues of the 
higher classes of her countrywomen. The furniture of the 
castle was like her own dress. While presenting many 
features belonging to the periods from which it had been 
inherited, still one saw, withal, specimens of the most re- 
cent taste in the ornaments and other things which were 
everywhere tastefully arranged. One felt quite at home 
among these various products of different periods of art, 
which reminded one more than anything else of a family 
in which grandfather, father and grandchildren live to- 


gether. 


“ You are getting ready to leave us, I believe,” said 
Madam Von Castelberg, beckoning Flavian to a seat 
beside her on the sofa. 

“ It is true. Madam, I was about to bid you farewell. 
For some time past I have only been a burden and an 
annoyance to you. It is time for me to leave you, but I 
do it with a sad heart. Your sympathy with my fate, the 
many sacrifices your compassion has made for me, leave 
me your greatest debtor, and yet, poor words are the only 


168 


THE HOSE OF DISENTIS. 


requital I can make you. Had it not been for your hu- 
manity, and for the motherly care with which you nursed 
me, I should, in all probability, be now lying in my grave. 

I know not how to thank or to requite you.” 

“ My dear captain, you are clearly rating my services 
to you too high. It is certainly no great favor to anyone 
to acquit oneself of an elementary duty, and still less so 
when not done altogether unselfishly. Unfortunately the 
latter is my position. You say you do not know how to 
thank me. I have long known however. That is just the 
reason why I sent for you. May I make my own terms 
for the slight service I have done you ? ” 

“ “ Anything, madam, even to my life, for, after all, I 
owe it to you.” 

“ I believe you cavalier enough, captain, to risk your 
life for a lady. But how suppose I w^re really to call upon 
you for that or a similar service ? ” 

“Even before made, you may consider your request 
granted. Madam.” 

“ Are you really in earnest ? ” she replied with a smile, 
holding out her hand to him. 

“ My hand upon it,” he answered, pressing hers to his 
lips. 

“ It is well, my true and brave cavalier, now I am sat- 
isfied. Listen to my first request, upon which a number 
of others will follow. Do not leave this castle until I 
allow you: I hope to be able to give you permission in a 
few days.” 

Flavian, who had least of all expected this, felt himself 
in a very awkward dilemma. He thought of the prisoners, 
of his pledged word, of the fate which threatened them, 
and of his promised conference with the Benedictine, to- 
gether with certain expressions used by him which seemed, 
in a manner, to be connected with the wish of Madam Von 
Castelberg. He reflected for a moment whether or not he 
dared confide to her his next day’s project. 


A FRESH VO W. 


169 


“ It seems,” said the lady, after a short pause, seeing 
that he did not speak, “ as though my first request was 
going to cause you a struggle.” 

“Perhaps more so than any other you could have 
made,” said Flavian, recovering from his bewilderment : 
“judge for yourself. To-day I bound myself irrevocably 
to undertake a little journey in the neighborhood. If 
you will allow me to do this, I shall be back in the even- 
ing, or, at the latest, early the following morning,” 

“Why not grant you a short leave of absence? That 
is, if I can only make sure of your returning. And your 
word of honor assures me of that,” said the wife of the 
president. “ And now for my second request. I have to 
enlist the whole of your heroism and nobility of soul for 
this one. Unfortunately, we are in the midst of horrible 
and tempestuous times. Hazy reports are current touch- 
ing the imminent encounter of the imperial troops with 
the French, in our unfortunate valleys. Every road and 
path is insecure, on account of the fury of our peasantry. 
A young lady, utterly helpless and abandoned, indeed 
even persecuted by the rage of contending factions, but 
a very dear friend of mine, wishes, under such circum- 
stances, to leave Graubünden as soon as possible. She 
does not live in Disentis. Will you take her under your 
protection and guide her across the frontier into either 
Germany, Italy, or Switzerland ? At the present moment, 
there is not a single man in the village or the neigh- 
borhood to whom I can entrust her. Our men, you 
know it unfortunately but too well, are in these times 
not — ” 

“Give yourself no trouble. Madam,” said the captain; 
“ I am ready at any hour or minute, and glad to be at 
your service. Heaven grant that I may succeed in my 
enterprise to-morrow, and be able to get back here in the 
evening ! If I may ask, who is the persecuted one, and 
why is she flying ? ” 

8 


170 


THE BOSE OF DISENTIS, 


“ She herself will inform you of all this, as soon as she 
is in safety. Her name is Pauline von Stetten. But I 
must tell, you, my dear friend, that the lady is neither 
very young nor very handsome, she is probably a couple 
of years older than yourself. She is accompanied by her 
maid and a friend. The latter is unfortunately suffering 
from a very repulsive ailment. But Pauline will not con- 
sent to part from her, and the invalid herself prefers 
death to separating from her guardian angel and remain- 
ing behind. I must tell you that she is suffering from a 
cancerous affection of the face, and, imagine how dreadful ! 
she has already nearly lost one eye through it. Well 
now ! Are you losing courage ? ” 

“ By no means, Madam. You have shown me such 
infinite kindness, that anything you could ask would be 
too little. You are right; the times are dangerous, and 
there is no safety anywhere. Heaven only grant that 
to-morrow — But how, if by some unfortunate combina- 
tion of circumstances, I should be prevented from getting 
back to-morrow or the next day ? ” 

Ha ! ha ! ray brave cavalier, already sounding the 
retreat, now that you hear the lady I entrust to you is not 
jroung, and that she has a sick friend with her? I am 
aware that for gentlemen like you, it is no trifling annoy- 
ance to travel the live-long day about the country with 
several ladies. But — ” 

“ Pray understand me, Madam. I was, at the moment, 
merely reflecting that I am bound by another promise, and 
am at present the creature of circumstances. But only 
imprisonment or death shall prevent me from keeping my 
word to you.” 

“You are imagining too terrible obstacles, dear captain. 
I trust you from the bottom of my heart. In the meantime 
we will make the necessary provision for the journey, 
which is not a very easy matter. The French have seized 
the few horses we had; indeed they have taken nearly all 


A FRESH VOW. 


171 


in these valleys. However, what we cannot accomplish 
will, I hope, be managed by our Benedictine friend.” 

“ So he is in this business too, is he ? He let drop a few 
words this morning that nearly said as much, but did not 
explain them.” 

‘‘ Why did he not ? ” answered Madam von Castel- 
berg ; “he was himself the first who thought of you for 
this service, although Pauline hesitated and thought it 
scarcely the thing to trust herself to a young man like you. 
You must pardon this timidity in an unengaged young 
lady,” said Madam Von Castelberg smiling ; “but she is 
learning to make a virtue of necessity. — Why are you so 
thoughtful ? ” 

“ Only one question, my dear Madam, but one I beg 
and entreat of you to answer. During mj^ sickness, was 
my idea of you in company with the young lady in mourn- 
ing really a mere dream ? It is impossible ! the apparition 
seems to me far too clear for that. And this morning 
again, I saw nearly the same face only with a different 
dress. It was a young peasant woman. I recognized her 
but indistinctly on account of the distance. I implore you 
to be kind and good, and help me out of this terrible 
dream.” 

“If it was a pleasant one, captain, it would be a really 
cruel thing to annihilate it, and if it was an unpleasant 
one, I could not, with the best will in the world. The face 
you saw to-day is unfortunately as little known to me as 
the one you saw in your fever.” 

“ The Benedictine saw the maiden too, and seemed, I 
thought, somewhat confused.” 

“ Indeed ! to whom here had your vision of the peasant 
girl any likeness ? ” 

“To no one here, but to a lady in Vienna, — no, I feel, 
myself, it is impossible. And yet, imagination can hardly 
play such dreadful pranks with me.” 

The more Flavian went on with his surmising, doubt- 


172 


THE ROSE OF DISEN TIS. 


ing, insisting and yielding, the more he excited the curios- 
ity of his hostess. She did not rest until, with feminine 
astuteness she had got a full and circumstantial account of 
Elfrida whom he seemed both to love and hate with despe- 
rate intensity. 

He spoke with rapture, and, at the same time, with 
bitter scorn, looking all the time intently at his auditor. 

Still he became convinced that Madam von Castelberg 
was entirely unacquainted with the chief character in his 
story. At times, she laughed outright at the extraordinarily 
conflicting character of his feelings : but evinced more 
sympathy for him than for the young and haughty maiden 
who had deceived him, or in whom he had deceived himself. 

Their conversation lasted far into the night. When he 
got back to his room, he found no sleep. His newly awaken- 
ed reminiscences, the thought of the prisoners, his uneasiness 
on account of Uli Goin’s absence, the duty which he had 
undertaken of protecting the ladies on their journey, ban- 
ished sleep from his eyelids. It was near morning when 
he sank into unrefreshing dreams. 


XXXII. 


APPEEHENSIONS ON ALL HANDS. 

CONTINUOUS knocking at his door, every mo- 



ment growing louder, waked him. He was thunder- 
struck as the clock told him of the near approach of mid- 
day. He thought of Uli Goin and of the prisoners, and 
was angry with himself for having let slip perhaps the 
most favorable time for the success of the rescue. Instead 
of Uli Goin, the commandant stepped in, as he opened his 
door, excusing his intrusion, and expressing his surprise at 
the long, healthy sleep of Flavian. 

“ Everybody is astir ! The village green is teeming 
with men, just like in fair time ! ” he exclaimed : “I begin 
to suspect this gathering.” 

“ Have the prisoners been sent forward ? ” quickly re- 
joined Flavian hastily dressing himself. 

“ Then you don’t know there’s fighting going forward? 
Sacr'e bleu ! The imperialists have really begun the attack. 
From daybreak we have heard the artillery here either in 
the direction of Chur or Luziensteig. It continues without 
intermission, sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker, ßacr'e 
bleu ! and we have to squat between these rocks and not 
take a hand in it. But, captain, the prisoners ! Are they 
already on the way to Chur? Send and have them fetched 
back ! ” 

“ Not necessary, citizen Prevost, what do you take me 
for ? I have them under guard. Your advice 5^esterday 
was sound. When they brought me news from the outposts, 
early in the morning, that they could hear artillery firing^ 
I went on to the hill, and convinced myself. I immediately 


THE BOSE OF DISENTIS. 


174 

countermanded the orders. The prisoners will remain where 
they are.” 

Flavian drew a deep breath as he found himself relieved 
from the dreadful reproach which would have fallen upon 
him had it been otherwise. He was glad not only that old 
HanifFer was going to be gratified in the only request he 
had made, but also at being able to convey to his hostess 
the pleasing information that he could remain with her 
until she herself fixed the time for departure. He now 
turned jocularly to the commandant, who was pacing the 
room absorbed in thought, muttering curses between his 
teeth, and said: “ Come, captain, why so serious? They 
are playing for fresh victories at Luziensteig, let us dance 
a round to the music ! ” 

“ Look, friend ! ” said the captain angrily ; “we are, as 
I have said before, surrounded by hypocritical traitors. 
The peasants knew of this attack days ago. Now they are 
all stretching their necks, cocking their ears and listening. 
Why do the scoundrels all run together now into the vil- 
lage out of their hiding places and crannies ? If the news 
only came that we were beaten and retreating, the devil 
would soon snap his chain, and we should have queer work. 
That’s why I have come to see you. My men are muster- 
ed. I am expecting the Sedrun detachment. I have called 
them in. We cannot spare a single man, least of all a man 
like you, citizen. You attached yourself to General Loison, 
as a volunteer, it is true. I ask and hope that you will 
stand firmly and faithfully beside me ; that is, that you 
will continue to serve your country and the republic. You 
understand the lingo of these people, and are the only man 
who can tell me how things are going and what the peas- 
ants are at.” 

“ With pleasure, captain, if I can discover, for I know 
nothing myself but what I have just heard from yourself. 
I will inquire, but with the necessary caution ; for — ” 


APPREHENSIONS ON ALL HANDS. 


175 

Quite so, citizen Prevost, you are a man of brains and 
heart.” 

“ It is indispensable that I should have the full confi- 
dence of the peasants.” 

“Just so, you are a Bündner yourself, they will trust 
you.” 

“ Therefore I must not give rise to the faintest suspi 
cion that I am in league with you, or any other Frenchman. 
So, for the present, we must not know one another, and 
must pass each other by on the road if we meet. Don’t 
speak to me anywhere. In case of danger you shall learn 
every thing I hear.” 

“ Agreed ! That’s settled. Set to work and pick up all 
the information you can. The peasants are standing in 
groups inside and outside the village, with mysterious looks. 
They only communicate by the eye. One presses his lips 
together, as though to stifle a sound he was afraid would 
betray him ; another clenches his fists ; a third looks cau- 
tiously around, a fourth stamps his feet. What can it all 
mean ? There is something brewing. But I am ready for 
them. Sacre hleii, the first one of them that moves a hand 
I’ll have him shot on the spot.” 

“No precij)itation, captain! I have duties towards my 
fellow countrymen too. If you shed unnecessarily, one 
single drop of the blood of my fellow-citizens, you may 
reckon me among your enemies.” 

Allons j done I said the commandant, in a tone which 
implied he wished to dispel the impression produced by 
his last words, or, as though he looked upon Flavian’s 
threat as an ill-timed joke. 

“ No, captain, don’t take me as talking lightly. Take 
care not to begin any foul play, you might find it a losing 
game.” 

“ Good 1 ” answered the commandant : “ we understand 
one another. The agreement is made. I must go to my 
men. Report to me soon 1 ” 


1T6 


THE ROSE OF DISENTI8. 


Hereupon he left. 

After his visit, Flavian remained, for some time, with 
folded, arras, contemplating the singular and ambiguous 
position in which he. had been placed by his earnest desire 
to act everywhere in accordance with duty. In order to 
secure the freedom of his country against the power of 
Austria, and to save it from the vindictive arbitrariness of 
a triumphant faction, he had attached himself to the repub- 
lican brigades of France, and, in the meantime, had been 
carried into Bünden as a suspected character. Looked 
upon by the Bündeners with confidence as a countryman, 
and, at the same time, treated by the French as one of 
themselves, he stood between both, his services claimed 
equally by both parties. While he abhorred the cold- 
blooded determination of the commandant quite as much 
as the horrible cruelty of an unbridled people, he saw dan- 
ger on both sides, since, for whichever party he might 
declare, he would be looked upon by the other as a cow- 
ardly sneak and traitor. 

“ Have I then acted dishonestly ? My conscience 
says no ! ” he thought to himself : “ Or have I acted 
unwisely ? I cannot see that I have, unless in the first step 
which took me to General Loison. Could I have had 
any notion of the whole string of consequences which were 
thus to result from a step taken out of pure love for my 
downtrodden country ? I have cast myself resolutely into 
the frightful tide of fate : now the waves are closing over 
me, and hurrying me helplessly along with them. 

“ I am powerless, even in my very best purposes. Serve 
the madness of either party, I cannot and will not. One 
tiling, Flavian, you can learn from this. Take the advice 
of the Benedictine, and abandon your dreams of reforming 
the world ! The stroke of a fly’s, or even of an eagle’s 
wing cannot check the mighty sweep of the hurricane. 
The real reformer is God in his dealings with nations. Do 
not sacrifice your part in life recklessly ; but be content 


APPREUE2sSI0JS[S OJY ALL HANP8. 


177 


with the one it offers you to play ; and that part carry 
through like a man. Let the mass of mankind grovel if they 
choose in their baseness, and torture themselves in their 
irrational doings : you follow quietly your own eternal 
ideal of the good. Over everything else let Him dispose, 
who has power to ordei' everything. 

“ That is my course,” cried Flavian aloud. Calmed 
down he left the castle and betook himself to the adjacent 
village green of Disentis. 

Here he found an unusually large crowd of men loiter- 
ing in scattered knots, whose numbers were momentarily 
increased by fresh comers from all sides. 

They seemed, however, to have been drawn together 
rather by curiosity on account of the distant thunder of the 
cannon than by any special intent. He spoke with one and 
another ; looked, but in vain, for Uli Coin, went to the 
prison where Malariva and Dahiffer had been confined, with 
a like result, inasmuch as nobody was allowed admission, 
and a strong guard stood before it. After having looked 
fruitlessly for the Benedictine, in the abbey, he went back 
to Madam von Castelberg, who was delighted at the pros- 
pect of his staying in the castle, since, like captain Salomon, 
she surmised no good from the appearance of so many peas- 
ants in Disentis. 

8 =* 


XXXIII. 


TEE FIRST OF MAY, 


O^^TRAKY to his expectations, while he was writing 



in his room, about midday, who should step in, with 
a cheerful greeting, but Uli Goin. 

“ That you ? ” exclaimed Flavian : “ In what beer- 

house have you been loitering ! I have been looking for 
you, high and low, and have a great deal to say to you.” 

“ So have I got a good deal to say to you, captain. If 
your sword is sharpened, just buckle it on : for the bolt is 
pretty near the mark. I have run ahead to tell you of it, 
and think I deserve good pay for it. So get ready. Tare 
and hounds ! The wolf is in the trap, so his friends must 
look after him.” 

“ Stop your prattle and listen, Uli ! Poor old Gilg Dan- 
ilfer has been taken by the soldiers, and is in prison ! ” 

“I know all about it, captain, but the keys are being 
taken there ; the best ever made by the celebrated lock- 
smith Master rifle. They shan’t touch a hair of Gilg’s 
head. If he chooses, he will be able to take a walk in his 
own pasturage to-day.” 

“ I don’t understand a word of what you say. What 
do you mean ? ” 

“ Nothing, except that we are once more masters in our 
own house. W e have taken all the Frenchmen in Tavetsch 
prisoners ; taken them without a single sword-thrust. I 
tell you ! They are being brought to Disentis, and will 
be here in half an hour.” 

“At this piece of news, Flavian jumned rr' from his 


THE FIRST OF MA Y. 179 

chaii-, in dismay, g^nd said : “ In the name of heaven ! what 
are you men thinking about?” 

“Ha ! ha ! ” said Uli, laughing; “Don’t you remem- 
ber then to-day is the first of May ! The Austrians have 
gone bravely to work at Luziensteig, and we have not been 
idle. When the stone begins to roll, we must slide with it. 
So out with the French ! out with the robbers who don’t 
leave a single flitch of bacon in the smoke-house.” 

“What has happened? Sit down. Tell me just as it 
occurred.” 

“Well, I can just as well put up with the chair with 
ray two tired legs as it can put up with me on its four,” 
said Uli, throwing himself down into the arm-chair and 
comfortably stretching out his feet before him. “ Well, 
just as it happened. Yesterday, I went to Tavetsch, ac- 
cording to appointment. I told you nothing about it. 
The shirt had to be kept in the dark as to where the coat 
was going. We kept ourselves, as you will easily believe, 
as quiet as mice there; French ears can tell when a mole 
sneezes. Finally the brave boys of Camot came in, all 
strong as trees, first rate shots, armed with hunting rifles. 
Yf ell, captain, it was a joy to see them ! Now we others 
just slijjped out of our hole and joined them, and the forty 
of us made straight for the inn ! Inside sat the lieutenant, 
or whatever he is, enjoying himself mightily at his dinner, 
not imagining we were bringing him mustard lor his beef. 

“ Three of us went in ; at our head the dark Rigis from 
the Selver meadow, who at one time was in the French 
service, and still has a word or two of their lingo left. The 
officer was taken prisoner. At first, it is true, he showed 
fight like a badger, but thunder ! a couple of cracks from 
the butt of a musket shook the senses out of him, and he 
looked like a cow does at a strawberry.” 

“ And the soldiers, Uli, did they leave their officers in 
the mess ? ” 

“ Captain, if you get hold of the goat by the horns the 


180 


THE ROSE OF DISEKTIS. 


kids will follow.” Black Rigis gave a couple of jumps, sum- 
moned the officer to beat the call and to order his men to 
ground their arms without resistance. The whole village 
was already on foot ; the twelve soldiers, too, were under 
arms. The officer had to go out. There he stood, without 
cap or sword, and harangued his men telling them that it 
was all over with them. But when he commanded them to 
ground arms, the fellow^s set up a howl like a concert of 
cats. In the meantime we had surrounded them, in the 
most friendly manner in the world, both in front and rear, 
and as they got a peep down the barrels of our rifles, they 
saw the matter precisely as we wanted them. 

“ So they handed over their arms, knapsacks and car- 
touche-boxes j list as quietly as a sheep does his wool. They 
are now on the march hither. Now the dance is beginning 
in Disen tis. So, captain, buckle on your sabre ! It will 
come down on the French like hail on a bare rock.” 

Flavian, who was at first tolerably dismayed, soon re- 
covered himself. The insurrection had broken out. It 
Avas clear there was no stopping that. But possibly, greater 
evil which might perhaps follow this rash step, could still 
be prevented. “ It would have been wiser if you had waited 
to see the upshot of the battle of Luziensteig. The wffiole 
thing will be settled there, and not by you here. If the 
emperor is victorious, then all right, let every corner be 
cleaned so that the archduke Charles may lose no time in 
following up his success. But if the French hold their 
intrenchments, you wiil have to look out for queer han- 
dling.” 

“Quite right,” saidTJli, “ in the council of war some of 
the greatest dare-devils were of your opinion. Thunder! 
I don’t care whether it is to-day or to-morroAV. 

“ But have I not already told you ? Colonel St. Julien 
of the Neugebauer regiment has sent orders, by his dis- 
guised adjutant, for the first of May, and with soldiers, you 
know, the thing is to obey and not to argue ! In any case, 


THE FIRST OF MA T. 


181 


we shall make it an easy game for the Austrians, if the 
French are attacked in front and rear. So a good start is 
half the battle ! Neck or nothing ! say 1.” 

The speaker was here interrupted by the entrance of 
Madam Von Castelberg. She looked deathly pale, turned 
to Flavian, took his hand and said with a trembling voice : 
‘‘My dear captain, do not leave the castle, do not desert 
me ! There is a general insurrection ! Your deadly enemy 
is at the head of the armed peasantry, and is in search of 
you. I forebode terrible misfortunes, greater than I have 
ever yet seen.” 

Flavian endeavored to calm the fears of the half-faint- 
ing lady, and led her to a sofa. “ Why do you torture 
yourself in this way, my dear Madam ; ” he said, endeavor- 
ing to comfort her ; “ they are Bündners : they are our 
own countrymen, who are merely rising against a foreign 
yoke. You and the castle are protected by the very peo- 
ple themselves. There is still less to be feared from the 
French garrison ; they can make no show of resistance, 
and will have to retreat.” 

“ True, for the moment,” replied the anxious lady ; “ but 
what if the hostile assassins should come back ? ” For the 
present, I am threatened by no danger, but you certainly 
run the greatest possible ! Do not attempt to pass the 
threshold of my door. Your mortal enemy is on the 
watch.” 

“ What mortal enemy ? ” said Prevost, shaking his 
head ; “ As far as I know, I have not one in the whole of 
God’s world. Will you be kind enough to tell me to whom 
you refer ? ” 

“ I do not know him ; not even his name ; but take this 
note: read it yourself!” said Madam Von Castelberg, 
handing him a note with the seal broken. It was in a 
woman’s handwriting, and read as follows : “ Farewell, 
dear friend, for I am starting immediately for Ilanz, under 
sate guidance, procured for me by the abbot, in order to 


182 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


escape the storm. God only knows what will become of 
me! The dean has just told me the peasants have forced 
the prison, and set free, among others, the Marquis Malari- 
va, who is the leader of the insurrection, and he is Prevost’s 
mortal enemy. Conceal your unfortunate guest. Fare- 
well! P. v. sl”. 

While reading the note, Flavian’s color left him, and 
he scrutinized the paper on all sides. It was signed Pau- 
line Von Stetten. What did she know of his relations to 
the Marquis ? Uli Goin, who had caught the expression 
of terror or astonishment in the face of his patron, stepped 
up to him and said : “ I scent danger ! What kind of a 
snare is this they are weaving around your head ? Speak, 
captain ! Mortal enemy? Who is the fellow ? The com- 
mandant ? Thunder ! I’ll nail him to the castle-gate like a 
night-owl.” 

“ Take it quietly ! Uli,” said Prevost, reading the note 
through again word for word : “ it is only Malariva.” 

“Blood and thunder!” shouted Uli Goin; “is the 
marten'again in the hen-roost? I’ll crush his cursed skull. 
They said an Austrian officer, an adjutant of Colonel St. 
J alien, was caged with Gilg Daniffer, but they spoke of 
no Marquis. If it’s he, then by the Lord, I’ll bake his 
bread even if the oven tumbles in, for wherever he comes 
he lays vipers’ eggs.” 

“ Be quiet, Uli,” said Flavian aside to him : “ Don’t 

abuse the Marquis, I have seen and spoken to him ; we are 
reconciled.” 

“Hum ! ” growled the Tavetscher: “a precious pairing. 
But you don’t belong to the same kidney. Take a piece 
of honest advice, captain, and beware of the Judas. He 
Avill kiss you to your face, and, at the same time, plant the 
devil on your back.” 

Witliout paying any attention to Uli, Flavian handed 
back the note to Madam Yon Castelberg with the ques- 
tion : “ May I ask who wrote these lines ? ” 


THE FIRST OF MA T. 


1S3 


She answered : “A true friend — I may confide it to you: 
Pauline Von Stetten; poor Pauline whom you are to ac- 
company, and who is in as great trouble about you as 
about herself.” 

Flavian shook his head in astonishment, and replied : 
“ My dear Madam, how does this strange lady know any- 
thing about me f ” 

“ Because I told her that you were going to be kind 
enough to protect her on her journey.” 

“ But how comes she to know Malariva ? and why does 
she call him my mortal enemy ? ” 

“ He is, without doubt, known in the convent. Dean 
Basil has, it appears, been speaking to the young lady 
about him, for he told her of his rescue from prison. The 
gentlemen of the convent are a great deal better informed 
upon worldly matters than one would imagine. There- 
fore, I beseech you ! take heed of their warning. Do not 
leave the castle.” 

Flavian remained for a moment, pensive and irresolute, 
then said : “ Allow me to go to the convent myself. I 
shall be back in a few minutes.” Notwithstanding all the 
good lady urged to the contrary, he was inflexible. 


XXXIV. 


TEE INSUBBECTIOE. 


HE roar of a thousand voices mingled with the rattle 



of small arms was heard upon the open green of Dis- 
entis. The high walls of the abbey, the neighboring rocks 
and the distant mountains re;echoed the noise. A com- 
pact, dense mass of men, of which it was impossible to 
estimate the number, crammed the streets in the neighbor- 
hood of captain Salomon’s dwelling, and w^as surmounted 
by a forest of pikes, muskets, spiked maces, and arms of 
every imaginable description and make. 

Prevost redoubled his pace. Uli Goin followed him 
with enormous strides. The latter had torn out of a bro- 
ken-down fence the soundest rail he could get, and was now 
flourishing it over his head as though it were a little alder 
switch : “ Isn’t it a sin,” said he, “ to see me, once an im- 

perial trooper, with a miserable toothpick like this ? How- 
ever, I’ll exchange it for the prettiest weapon among the 
Frenchmen. Hurrah ! Blood is trumps ! ” 

“ Silence, you cannibal ! ” said Flavian gloomily : “ Let 
us make our way through the crowd, and prevent disaster 
if it is not too late.” 

The company of French soldiers was drawn up in two 
double files across the street, which was filled with groups 
of gaping and listening men, and thus faced the crowd on 
the right and left. Between the two ranks there was a 
moderate-sized space in which were standing a few of the 
peasants with captain Salomon. Among them, Flavian 
discovered the towering form of Gilg Danifler, and the dis- 
guised Marquis Malariva, in conference with the captain. 


THE INSUnREGTION. 


185 


‘‘ Go to the devil ! ” shouted the commandant, his eyes 
flashing with anger ; “do you imagine that French soldiers 
ground their arms to a mob ? Honor before life ! There- 
fore, sir, lose no words. You say I am outnumbered 
Your chatter will be tested when we have tried bullet and 
bayonet, not before ! I wish to shed no blood ; therefore, 
the only thing I can promise to do, without being held re- 
sponsible for it, is to withdraw quietly from Disentis, with- 
out taking revenge for the insurrection. If that will not do, 
tlien, sacrk> hleu^ the attack will be sounded, and I will carve 
my way through your peasants with the bayonet.” 

“ Sir commandant ! ” answered the Marquis, “ in that 
case not a single French soldier will leave this place alive, 
that I swear to you ! You have to do here with mountain- 
eers, who will not run away at the report of your muskets. 
Therefore, moderate your warmth a little ; your exaggera- 
tion and threats are not of the slightest avail. One sign 
from my Anger, and in flve minutes there will not be a 
Frenchman alive. Look on your position coolly ! I am de- 
sirous of sparing human life. It is with difficulty that I 
can restrain the furious people. I was your prisoner; you 
treated me dishonorably. You had vowed me to death : 
do not deny it ! To-day you are my prisoner. I wish to 
show you that the German is more magnanimous than the 
Frenchman. I desire to save your life. I promise you such 
honorable treatment as prisoners of war have a right to.” 

“ Sacre bleu ! offer me that ! ” screamed the captain : 
“ clear off at once ! Why so much chaffering ? Ho ! drum- 
mer, attention ! If I signal, beat the attack ! ” 

“ Halt ! ” cried Flavian, who was close up to the line 
of soldiers who kept him back with levelled bayonets : 
“ Commandant, give orders for me to be allowed within the 
circle ! ” 

Captain Salomon turned his wild and lowering counte- 
nance towards the quarter from which the voice proceeded, 
and, as soon as he recognized his man, sprang towards 


186 


THE ROSE OF DISENTI8. 


him, seized his hand, and brought him into the midst of the 
negotiators. 

“ Hallo ! brave boy, is it you ? ’’ shouted Daniffer, giv- 
ing Flavian a slap on the shoulder with his iron-like hand. 
“Hurrah ! now we will clear up accounts with our jailor. 
Although I don’t understand a single word of his jargon, 
still I can see that the fellow is scratching and struggling 
just like a hen being taken to the kitchen. Tell him to 
stop his prattling and to surrender unconditionally.” 

Flavian first turned to the Marquis Malariva, and said 
to him : “ Are you going to begin murder ? Do you know 
how matters have gone at Luziensteig ? Nothing is decided. 
It is already late in the day and still the sound of the artil- 
lery is very faint on the air, and has not neared us one jot. 
I am afraid the imperial troops have not succeeded. If 
the French hold their ground, we should be playing a dan- 
gerous game here, and to-morrow we might see a couple 
of batallions of the enemy in Ilanz and Disentis. These 
people are just like a quicksand, driven together by their 
desperation and the hope of victory ; they would fall 
asunder in a panic quite as quickly, and be the first to lay 
their misfortunes at your door, and hand you over to the 
French.” 

“ Be brief, Mr. Prevost, what is your wish ? ” 

“ Only j^esterday. Marquis, I saved you from the coun- 
cil of war and death. To-day I warn you not to run blind- 
ly into the same danger.” 

The Marquis Malariva, with one hand carelessly thrown 
behind his back, and the other playing with his chin, re- 
plied; “I remember your visit to me in prison with grati- 
tude, and shall never forget my obligation. Still, at the 
present moment, other interests are at stake. Yesterday 
is not to-day. The French are now my prisoners, and I am 
now the judge. It seems to me, Mr. Prevost, that you give 
yourself a great deal too much anxiety for your dear friends 
the French.” 


THE INSURRECTION. 


187 


‘‘ Marquis, but for yourself and my countrymen ! 
I warn you. Perpetrate no butchery ! Take no decisive 
action until you have received definite information touch- 
ing the issue of the fight at Reichenau and Luziens- 
teig.” 

“What did you say of butchery, captain Prevost? I 
want no bloodshed if the soldiers will ground their arms. 
But the commandant there is a stiff-necked fool. He will 
listen to nothing. Go yourself and call his attention to 
his position. Perhaps your eloquence will have more 
efifect upon the fool than mine.” 

“ With pleasure, Marquis, if such are your orders. Still, 
I demand your solemn pledge that when the company has 
laid down its arms, the men shall receive honorable treat- 
ment ; and, since it is impossible to feed for many days so 
large a number of prisoners in Disentis, I require your 
word of honor that they shall be conducted and handed 
over to the nearest Austrian or French post.” 

The Marquis bowed, as though in assent, with his own 
ambiguous smile, and said : “ Perfectly right ! I ask no 
better. I give you my word of honor. Explain that to 
yonder madman.” 

From anyone but the Italian, this promise, backed by 
his word of honor, would have been sufficient for Flavian. 
The Marquis had to declare more nearly and expressly this 
condition, and give his word of honor several times before 
Flavian trusted him. “ If you were to break your word^ 
Marquis, I would be the avenger of their blood, which 
would cry to God and man for vengeance ! For I know 
and see it, at this moment you are the man the people are 
following, and are therefore all powerful.” 

“ But, my dear friend,” answered the Marquis : “ what 
are you thinking about? I am almost inclined to take 
ofience at your distrust. Our interest is a common one. 
I am content to make the Frenchmen prisoners of war. 
To-morrow they shall be escorted away from here un- 


188 


THE ROSE OF DI8ENTIS. 


harmed, and, mark well ! taken to Chur and delivered up 
there. My hand and my word of honor upon it.” 

With this declaration Flavian went to captain Salo- 
mon, who, in the meantime, had been giving the dangers 
of his position calmer consideration. He revolted against 
laying down his arms, but he could answer nothing to 
Provost’s representation that it was better thus to preserve 
his men to the army than to sacrifice both men and arms 
by an opposite course. Flavian also reminded him that 
the insurrection was not confined to a couple of the neigh- 
boring valleys, but was universal throughout the high- 
lands. If, which was exceedingly unlikely, the company 
did succeed in forcing its way out of Disentis, it would be 
followed by the furious masses of the peasantry, would be 
encountered at every village by fresh bodies of the Land- 
sturm, and would undoubtedly have to give in either 
through fatigue, or want of ammunition. 

Muttering curses between his teeth, the commandant - 
walked up and down hurriedly, then stood before the 
intermediary and after some hesitation, said : “So be it ! 
Safe conduct for my men and myself to Chur. I am 
a prisoner of war. There is nothing else to be done 
here ! ” 

The agreement was repeated between him and Mala- 
riva; was explained in German to old Daniffer, and by 
him to his immediate companions. The conditions of sur- 
render, when agreed to by them, were announced in the 
Romanetsch to the assembled people. Thundering cheers, 
and applause from a thousand throats conveyed the assent 
of the crowd. 

The commandant explained briefly to his soldiers the 
bitter necessities of the position ; called out the last com- 
mand : “ ground arms ! ” which was obeyed in mournful 
silence. But when the Marquis advanced and demanded 
his sword, he shouted : “ Sacre bleu, my life is in your 
power, but not my honor, and no French officer gives up 


THE mSUBBEGTIOH. 


189 


his sword to rebels.” He snapped the blade against the 
ground, and threw the hilt far away from him. 

In the midst of disorder there was still observed a kind 
of military discipline by the peasantry. The French were 
escorted as prisoners to the convent : the commandant and 
his few brother officers among the number. The baggage 
and arms of the company were seized, but no sort of out- 
rage was offered to the vanquished. 

Flavian now learned, for the first time, that blood had 
been shed before his arrival, because captain Salomon had, 
at the beginning, stubbornly opposed the advancing land- 
sturm. A few had been killed and wounded on either side 
before the appearance of the Marquis, who accompanied by 
Gilg Daniffer and other leaders, had put an end to the con- 
test. Flavian marched with the prisoners into the abbey, 
where among the confused mass of monks, soldiers and peas- 
ants, he busied himself in looking after the wounded and 
prisoners, and forgot his first intention of speaking with 
his friend the Benedictine. It was late when he returned 
from the convent to the castle, not dissatisfied with his 
day’s work, but still depressed at heart. 


XXXV. 


LANDSTURM DOINGS. 


HE second of May had come. Flavian was early 



astir, pistols in belt, and hastening to the convent to 
watch over the safety of the prisoners. He heard then and 
there the dull reverberation of a cannon-shot similar to 
those of yesterday, the precise direction of which could 
not be determined. The soldiers of tlie landsturm were 
already assembled under the walls of the convent, divided 
into companies ; drunk with brandy, desire for revenge and 
religious fury; with madonnas and images of the saints in 
their hats and caps, armed with old spears, spiked maces, 
fowling pieces, muskets taken from the French, axes, pitch- 
forks, clubs and cleavers. In their midst was the mournful 
group of prisoners. Malariva was engaged in conversation 
with some of the men, his words being accompanied by a 
lively play of his hands and arms. 

As soon as he perceived the captain of riflemen, he 
turned to him and said : “ Good ! captain Prevost, I have 
been expecting you. We are short of oflicers. ITnfortu- 
nately, I hear you cannot speak the Romanetsch language. 
You are in the same box as myself in that matter. Choose 
your own place among the defenders of the country. Re- 
joice, too, with me : everything is going splendidly. Re- 
main at my side.” 

“ Ho ! no ! ” shouted the gigantic Gilg Danifler : “ The 
lad brought more out of school with him than I did, and he 
is as brave as the devil. I command the vanguai;d. He 
is not going to leave me, Marquis.” 


LANDSTURM DOINGS. 


191 

“As you like,” said Malariva, “only everyone to liis 
post, and forward ! ” 

Shortly afterwards the masses began to move, one after 
another, and passed the green amid the shouts of men, and 
the tears of the women and children who forced themselves 
into the ranks to bid them good-bye. A few of the Bene- 
dictines accompanied them, for a short time, warning, ex- 
horting and advising them. 

The march had hardly commenced before the advanc- 
ing masses were brought to a halt opposite the court-house. 
Here fresh bodies of the landsturm were drawn up. They 
belonged to the neighboring highlands of Lukmanier and 
Crispalt. They gave vent to frightful yells and disorder 
when apprised of the conditions accorded to the French. 
They opposed the capitulation, and would not listen to a 
word about quarter. In vain did Malariva endeavor to re- 
duce them to obedience. He was answered with curses and 
clenched fists. 

The savage mountaineers of Lukmanier were fiercest 
in their demonstrations against the disarmed and unfortu- 
nate French. “ Cut them down, the heretics ! ” screamed 
out the band : “ Down with every man of the — horde ! ” 

I The men of Disentis, however, stepped between the prison- 
j ers and their would-be murderers. A few of the Benedic- 
I tines, who happened to be present, threw themselves down 
I on their knees before the infuriated ranks, reminded tlieni 
of Christian mercy, of subordination, of the punishments and 
judgments of heaven. But Aveapons Avere raised against 
these Avorthy pleaders, and it Avas only through the cour- 
ageous attitude of the Disentis leaders that an end Avas put 
I to the tumult, and, after a lengthy interruption, the march 
I Avas resumed. 

I In the meantime, FlaAuan had proceeded, at the head of 
the vanguard, Avith the chatty Daniffer. Just Avhere the 
mountains begin to rise, near the high, moss-covered masses 
of rock, the memories of the lovely apparition were aAvak- 


192 


THE ROSE OF RISEN ITS. 


ened in him, which belonged to the sweetest of his life. It 
almost seemed to him as though he must again meet the 
enchanting form which he had seen here a few days pre- 
viously. 

The eternal height of the Alps rose majestically before 
him, their silver summits here and there half shrouded in 
mist. The country looked like a great Eden, so wonder- 
fully and grandly glorious was it. The first spring songs 
of the birds were mingling with the monotonous murmur 
of the waterfalls, and from the higher Alps softly de- 
scended the melodious tinklings of the herd-bell. 

He was suddenly checked in his musings, and stood as 
though rooted to the ground. He looked, with an expres- 
sion of horror, into the face of his companion ; his com- 
panion stared at him. Not far behind, a few rifle-shots 
were heard : these were succeeded by many ; then there 
was a vigorous rattle of musketry accompanied by frightful 
yelling and shrieks of agony. 

“ Halt ! there’s mischief behind! ” said Danifier, “ Have 
we been surprised by the enemy?” 

“ Come ! ” screamed Flavian, dragging the bewildered 
old man with him ; “ let us get back before the most fear- 
ful part of the work is accomplished.” 

They hastened back. But, before they had reached the 
front rank of the largest squad, everything was again 
quiet. No one knew what had happened. Everyone was 
of a different opinion. Flavian, whom surmises did not 
satisfy, hurried farther to the rear. Here he saw his friend 
TJli. Uli came forward, out of breath, beckoned Flavian 
with his hand to proceed no farther, and approached him 
with a look of fixed horror. 

“ Stay where you are, captain,” he groaned, giving 
evidence of his grief and horror by his tones: “ Stay ! It 
is too late ! These men know of no laws of war. No ! I 
say. They call themselves soldiers ! They are bloodhounds, 
a pack of — banditti 1 ” 


LAND^rrUBM DOINGS. 


193 


“Who? TJli,” asked Flavian, through whose frame a 
cold shudder went at the words of the giant; for he had 
never seen the brave man so completely cowed: “Say! 
speak out ! What is the disaster that has struck you 
dumb ? ” 

“Disaster? No, sir ! Atrocity that stinks to heaven I 
They have slaughtered the French to the very last man ; 
shot everyone of them down ; hacked and stabbed them to 
pieces without mercy. My heart leaped round in my body 
as the unfortunate wretches lay there on the ground 
weltering in their blood, attempting, in spite of their 
smashed skulls, to raise themselves up. And how they 
groaned, shrieked and moaned until an end was put to 
their misery by the butts of the muskets. There is no 
such horrible work at the last judgment, no, not in hell 
itself ! ” 

“ The monsters ! ” cried Flavian, almost driving his 
fingers through the palms of his hands; “All? did you 
say, all assassinated ? captain Salomon too ? ” 

“ Every mother’s soul of them, sir ! fifty, eighty, a 
hundred men lay there, body upon body, just like straw 
after it has been thrashed.” 

“ Who began the bloody work ? Why ? Did Mala- 
riva order it ? ” 

“ No, captain. He wanted to save them ; he did, in- 
deed. The devil himself must have felt sick at the work 
of these demons. We had scarcely got a hundred paces 
from the green, not far from the castle, you know, where 
the road runs past the little church of St. Placidus, — God 
save my poor soul — Jesus, Mary, Joseph! To murder men 
in so holy a spot 1 There’s no forgiveness for that either 
in heaven or on earth. Well, well, the beginning of sin 
is sweet but the end bitter, my old grandfather used to 
say, and he is quite right.” 

“ Go on ! go on ! ” said the rifle captain impatiently. 

“ Well, as I said, they gave the Frenchmen a little more 
9 


TUE ROSE OF D18ENTIS. 


liU 

elbow-room. It was a mournful march. They e^mry one 
had their hands tied behind their backs. One of the Bimdnei* 
men took compassion on a few of them and cut their bonds. 
They then stepped from among their fellows, and stood 
quite quietly there; it was between the little church of St. 
Placidus and the ditch, you know! Then a couple of the 
bluecoats dashed olF, and attempted to escape. Our men 
ran after them and fired. The fugitives fell. The French 
shouted ; the peasants yelled and got furious. They be- 
came wild. Shot followed shot, blow followed blow. The 
men of Disentis wanted to stop it, but were too wmak. 
The Medelsers, and, to my shame I say it, the Tavetschers, 
set upon the prisoners like incarnate devils. Praying and 
swearing were of no use. Come, Captain ! Look behind. 
The murdering crew are upon us. Come ! Don’t say a 
single ugly word to any one of them. We are among 
wolves ; we must howl with them.” 

‘‘ My curse on the wretches ! ” said Flavian : “ I will 
have nothing more to do with them ; I’ll make my way 
back to Disentis.” 

“ Don’t attempt any such thing, by all the saints ! The 
maniacs have sworn to send a ball through the head of the 
first deserter. Come ! ” 

Uli Coin dragged the reluctant captain down the moun- 
tain with him. On the way, they met Gilg DaniTler who 
pressed them with questions, and to whom they had to 
recount everything afresh. Gilg listened with eyes start- 
ing out of their sockets, and cheeks the color of death. 

“It is no use, Gilg, to look like the death of Ypern,” 
said Uli : “ There’s no help for spilt milk. Forward, 
march ! ” 

“No!” shouted Danifier; “Back, back! Blood for 
blood ! They have opened the jaws of hell, and we are not 
all going to perish for them.” This said, he turned to his 
men, and related to them, in the language of his valley 
what had happened, evidently in the expectation of rousing 


LANDSTURM DOINGS. 


195 


them to vengeance against the murderers. But before he 
could finish, a hellish glee was visible on every counte- 
nance, which ended in their breaking out into loud shouts 
of delight and cheers. The speaker looked at his men in 
bewilderment. They, without waiting for the word of 
command, continued their march amid the wildest laugh- 
ter. 

In the meantime, the rear bodies had come up. They 
joined in the cheering of the vanguard, mingled with them, 
and pushed forward in confusion at the double. 

In the middle of the crowd, could be discerned the Mar- 
quis Malariva, his whitish-yellow face bent earthwards. 
As soon as Flavian perceived him, he approached him and 
asked: “Well, where are you going? There are no 
Frenclimen left to escort to Chur ! ” 

“LTnfortunately ! ” answered tlie marquis gloomily, 
with a slight shrug of his shoulders: “With such men, 
law, order, obedience, mean nothing. I would much rather 
take the field with Indians than with these beasts. In the 
meantime, I hope the ruffians will charge the enemy’s bay- 
onets as coolly as they cut down the defenceless men. The 
butchery near the church is provoking. Still, perhaps it is 
as well they should get used to the sight of blood, so as not 
to fight shy of it when they see it for the first time on the 
field of battle.” 

Flavian remarked, with a side-glance full of disgust, 
“ How about your solemn pledge ? You jjromised com- 
mandant Salomon safe conduct.” 

“Did I break my pledge, my dear friend?” answered 
Malariva, his face relaxing into a smile : “ The command- 

ant is safer than we are. He will be accompanied into 
eternity to-day and to-morrow by more than one. My dear 
friend, that is war. It means the deliverance of your coun- 
try. Keep up your courage. Perhaps in a few hours we 
shall meet the enemy.” 

“ What, Marquis ? Do you think you are going to beat 


J93 


THE ROSE OF DISENT18. 


French soldiers with these dishonored and merciless 
wretches ? ” 

“ Quiet, Mr. Prevost, not too loud. They are, at least, 
I might say with Falstaff, food for powder : and while we 
are keeping the French rear busy. Field Marshal Hotze 
will have free play from Bregenz and Montafua.” 

“ Then yesterday decided nothing on the frontier ? ” 

“ Just about that much. I may tell you, in confidence, 
that mayor Schmitt and myself received messengers with 
the latest news. The attack on Luzieusteig, skilfully as it 
was combined, failed. While Hotze led the attack from 
Stirn, Colonel St. Julien turned the intrenchments from the 
Flascherberg, in order to place them between two fires. 
He had already penetrated as far as the little town of 
Maienfeld, when he was attacked in overwhelming force 
from the right bank of the Landquai’t by general Chabran, 
and forced back into the mountains. 

“ Everything failed, as a matter of course. St. Julien’s 
corps was too weak. We are going to begin the dance 
again, however. We are many thousand strong. At this 
very hour, the whole of Graubünden is moving forward in 
arms ; the landsturm is pouring down from every one of the 
mountain valleys. The field-marshal is aware of it, will 
make a simultaneous attack; to-morrow we shall be be- 
yond Chur ; make up your mind to that.” 

The Marquis was here called away by a messenger. 
Prevost marched forward with the motley crowd of insur- 
gents. Flight was not to be thought of. He felt like a 
prisoner. 


XXXVI. 

WORKIXG OF THE INSUREECTIOX. 

’TXl^ went on like a God-forsaken man being led to execn- 
tion. The hoarse thunder that came from the mighty 
mass of men fell upon his ear like the monotonous roar of 
the waves. One thought alone he brooded over, uncon- 
nected with any other, for all seemed dead. “We drift, 
and drift, on and on, like dumb puppets of fate.” 

He first recovered the clearness of his perceptions as he 
heard the cry halt ! halt ! This order was given in order to 
enable the armed bands, who were streaming down from 
the heights of the Kulmattenberg, like scattered herds, to 
join the main body. 

They halted. He recognized, on his left hand, the 
maple-tree of Trons, under whose shade, centuiies before, 
the first founders of Graubünden had sworn the oath of 
freedom. The broad hollow trunk was topped, on one 
side, by a few withered branches ; but on the side nearest 
the chapel, it was crowned by young and vigorous limbs. 
The chapel is a memorial of the oath of freedom. The 
noble old tree seemed to predict the death of the old world 
with its Indian style of freedom, and the blossoming of a 
new and nobler liberty out of the dust and mould of the 
middle ages. 

This very thought, his favorite one, pierced the gloom 
of his reflections like a sunbeam. Faith, love, and the 
hope of a better future again burned within his breast. 
Earth and heaven seemed to second his thoughts as he 
gazed over the far-stretching valleys, between the mighty 
forms of the mountain chains and the glittering glaciers 


198 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


that crowned them. Beneath him, in the pale green atmos- 
phere of the precipices, between gently swelling hills, could 
be seen nestling little villages around their church, and on 
the heights were huts which looked the picture of peace. 
Even ruins of castles were to be seen here and there crown- 
ing the crests of the rocks, amid the verdure of the young 
spring, like friendly shadows of the past, mute witnesses 
of by-gone ages. 

Suddenly the cry, clear and sharp, rang out from many 
throats. “Forward!” and the ever-increasing flood of 
the landsturm rolled on its onward career. The counte- 
nances of the men among whom he found himself were ex- 
pressive of blood-thirstiness, debauchery, hatred, violence 
and plunder, fear and murder. A few of the bands were 
telling their beads in a monotonous droning hum, while 
others near them indulged in obscenity. 

Flavian had never before found himself among men 
who prided themselves so openly upon their brutality. 
He would gladly have escaped. But every man was 
watching his neighbor. Any attempt at escape would 
have been immediately followed by death. 

And although the spectacle, which every moment be- 
came more revolting, was anything but a comical one, 
still, at times he could hardly repress an internal smile as 
he thought of the wild pranks that fate was playing with 
him. “There is nothing for it,” he said, “but to follow 
this horrible mob wherever they go, even if it end in a 
disgraceful death.” 

In the midst of his gloomy musings, the army, if it can 
so be called, neared the banks of the rushing Bhine. On 
the other side of a creaking wooden bridge, in picturesque 
beauty, lay the little village of Tavanaska, between shrubs 
and rocks, like an exquisitely painted drop-scene. But in 
startling contrast thereto were the half-naked corpses that 
could be seen in the grass near the bridge. Älany more 
were to be seen lying about the village, where broken 


WORKING OF THE INSURRECTION. 


199 


•windows, bullet-marks and walls besprinkled with fresh 
blood gave evidence of a barely finished struggle. A few 
hours previously, another landsturm had rushed down 
from the mountains and fallen upon a French post. Their 
intended annihilation failed, however. A company of 
French grenadiers at Trons got wind of the attack the 
night previous, hastened hither, and forcing their way 
through the furious peasants across the bridge, through 
the village, after a murderous combat, retreated with 
their rescued comrades to Reichenau. The straggling 
stream of men, overtopped by stakes, cudgels and weapons 
of every kind, did not look unlike a grey stream of mud 
carrying along with it roots and hedges, now widening, 
again contracting into a dense mass. From the mountain 
villages, the dark recesses of the forests, the stream still 
continued to pour into the ranks of the disorderly army^ 
men in their prime, grey-beards, boys hardly out of their 
teens. The alarm-bells were heard throughout the land, 
summoning the men to their standards. 

When the army, numbering many thousands, approached 
the first city on the Rhine, Elion or Ilanz, it divided into 
two bodies. The one took the right, the other the left 
bank of the river. The rifle captain, Prevost, had, in the 
confusion, lost sight of his few comrades. He sought them 
in vain among the vanguard, where he saw strange men 
giving the word of command in the Romanetsch or German 
language. He sought them again in the rear-guard to 
which he attached himself in order to avoid the crush. 
Thus the march continued for hours. The golden crimson 
of evening was already tipping the ruined castle of Hohen- 
trins. It died away on the rocky summit of the majestic 
Calanda just as the hitherto divided army again united at 
th.e castle of Reichenau and halted, in order to await, in 
the surrounding villages, the morrow, the decisive day. 

It was only by a good deal of persuasion, and promises 
of heavy gold, that Flavian managed to get a wretched 


200 


THE ROSE OF DISENTI8. 


supper, and a bundle of hay in an outhouse for a bed. Still, 
he could not sleep. The events of the last twelve hours 
played in too ghastly a shape before his closed eyes, and 
recurred again and again. 

The merry jodel and the horse-laugh of the peasants, 
drunk with wine and brandy, broke on the stillness of the 
night. The houses in the village had been plundered, the 
cellars of the castle, the custom-house and inn had been 
broken into, and now they were abandoning themselves to 
every excess in the frenzy of drunkenness. More than once, 
the captain, unable to sleep, had risen from the ground des- 
perate. He wanted to escape, in the darkness, from these 
crying horrors, but exhaustion held him down. Dawn 
was already breaking through the crevices in the logs of 
which the out-house had been put together. A deep sleep 
at last weighed down his eyelids. 


XXXVII. 


DEATH AND W0VND8. 



^HE sun was already high above the horizon. Without, 


there was a dull noise, like that of a wind-storm. Fla- 
vian had some difficulty in recollecting himself, and looked 
with uncertainty, right and left. The noise continued, but 
it was not that of the wind. He sprang up refreshed, and 
stepped from his out-house into the open air. He discov- 
ered that he was in a meadow near the little village of 
High Tamins. Beneath him, in the valley, lay the castle 
of Reichenau, a large mansion, somewhat in the modern 
style, with out-buildings, not far from two covered wooden 
bridges, over both streams of the Upper and Lower Rhine, 
which mingled their w^aters under the rocks of a neighbor- 
ing garden. In the distance could be heard the rattle of a 
brisk fire of small arms ; ever and anon the dull boom of 
the cannon which re-echoed along the sides of the larch for- 
ests that covered the mountains. 

Here and there a man could be seen running across the 
fields like a fugitive or a messenger from the fight. Wom- 
en with bundles on their backs and children by their side, 
might be seen making their way up the steep ascent which 
led to the recesses of the Kunkelser Alps. 

There was no longer any doubt, in Flavian’s mind, that 
they were in the heat of the fight. He endeavored to get 
some precise information. In the village not a soul was to 
be seen, every dwelling was empty. He made his way 
down to the castle. He saw, on his way down, nothing 
but tlie corpses of a few murdered soldiers. The castle- 
square and neighboring garden were just as deserted. He 


9 


202 


THE ROSE OF DISEF'TIS. 


discovered only the relics of the last night’s destruction ; 
doors burst open, smashed window-frames, fragments of 
bottles, plates and broken household ware. 

Finally he heard men’s voices and steps, proceeding 
from the covered bridge, over which the road runs to Chur. 
He went to meet them full of anxiety. 

They were lusty peasants carrying a stretcher, on which 
lay a well dressed man : blood was dripping from it. Pre- 
vost recognized, not without a shudder, the garments of 
tlie unfortunate man. It was the JMarquis Malariva ; one 
of the very first to be carried oflT the field of battle. 

The men took him into the castle, and laid him down in 
a roomy chamber on the ground floor, which, barely twelve 
months before, had resounded to the games of the pupils of 
a superior school. Now the floor was covered with their 
beds, upon which wounded men cried and groaned beside 
the corpses of others. 

Flavian knelt beside the couch of the Marquis : opened 
his clothes and found the left breast, near the shoulder, 
pierced by a ball. The staunching of the blood was a mat- 
ter of some difficulty, even with the help of the few peas- 
ants present ; the wound was bound up with bandages torn 
from the bed-clothes. 

The Marquis Malariva, who had hitherto been in a death- 
like slumber, finally opened his eyes; seemed as though en- 
deavoring to collect himself ; cast his eyes around ; looked 
at Flavian ; then at the wounded and dying ; then again 
at Flavian, and said: “Are you omnipresent? Good: 
Victory is ours ! Don’t leave me. Is the wound danger- 
ous?” 

“ I take it,” said Flavian seriously, in order to pacify 
the sufferer, “that the wound is not dangerous.” 

“Just so, my dear friend! Quite right! I feel no 
pain. The battle is over. I am going to Chur. The mar- 
shal and the emperor ! I am proud. Victory through 
me. You will remain by me? Will you accompany me to 


DEATH AND WOUNDS. 


203 


Flavian promised to do so, with a slight sinking of the 
heart, and inquired how far the landsturm had pushed 
forward. 

“To Chur, and farther ! Hotze, St. Julien and I. My 
wound does not pain. You men, just tell the gentleman. 
I will rest. I am cold.” 

One of those who had carried the Marquis in, gave the 
follow! ng account : 

“Before we went forward we heard the artillery at 
Luziensteig. The imperial troops had begun their work 
with daybreak. That gave us courage, sir ! We pushed 
forward rapidly to Ems. The French were in the village. 
We went at them straight away. Then there were some 
bloody heads. In spite of the infernal cannonade, we 
w'ent forward. All was confusion. Shooting and clubbed 
muskets the order of the day! I saw a delicate woman, 
with my own eyes, fell to the ground the artillerymen at a 
gun. The cannon was ours ! When the bluecoats after a 
long fight, were driven out of the village, they re-formed 
in the open like lightning. Just what we wanted. Now 
we could deploy, use our arms more freely, four or five 
thousand of us. Then came the push for the French ; 
right and left, front and rear we poured death into them. 
They had to take to their heels. We pursued. In a 
twinkling they had re-formed and faced us as though noth- 
ing had happened. We went at them again. 

“ Then this distinguished imperialist received a ball, 
and fell close to us. His blood spurted out to some dis- 
tance. • He screamed dreadfully. I took pity on him. Af- 
ter all, we are Christians ! ” 

“You simpleton! I did not scream!” groaned the 
Marquis. “ Do not tell lies.” 

“ Then some one else screamed for you,” said the narra- 
tor : “ Well, a few of us picked him up off the ground, and 
carried him out of the fight, to the rear, into a house in 
Ems. A couple of old women stopped up the hole in his 


20i 


TUE HOSE OF DISENTI8. 


chest, and bound it up as well as they knew how. He lay 
in a faint for a long time, so that we thought he was dead. 
But he unexpectedly came to. In the meantime we noticed 
that the fire of the small-arms was constantly receding 
towards Chur. Just what we wanted. But as the j^eas- 
ants of Ems either hadn’t a bed for the gentleman, or 
wouldn’t bring one out, we were obliged to carry him here 
to Reichenau. That was a dreadful annoyance to us. 
For as we were putting the gentleman on the stretcher, Iceli 
Alix von Somwix came upon us. Perhaps you know him. 
He was wounded in the arm by a bayonet. He said that 
when he left the fight, our army was close upon Chur, and 
that fighting was going on in the gardens, the French 
being nearly beaten. So we’ve lost the best of the fun, and 
shan’t be in Chur when the landsturm get into the town 
and get tlie booty. Our brothers are there now, are sack- 
ing the place and hunting down the last of the French with 
the butt of the musket.” 

The Marquis had fallen into a slight doze during this 
recital. Flavian ordered silence, and went out to listen to 
the distant thunder of the cannon. It did not seem to be 
as distant as before, but was weaker. “ Hurrah ! ” shouted 
the previous speaker : “ listeij ! It’s not much after mid-day 
and our brave fellows have already settled the bluecoats, 
and are enjoying themselves. Look you, sir, that is a 
victory the world will talk about for a long time.” 

Flavian returned in about half an hour, not without 
misgivings, to the sleeper, and found his face paler and 
more distorted. He quietly sat down on the side of the 
bed to await his waj^ening, and gave himself up to dark 
reflections upon the turn of things. He might, even now, 
have secured his own safety by flight over one of the 
mountain passes. Still, he would not perpetrate the inhu- 
manity of leaving the helpless Marquis to his despair. 
On the other hand he had pledged his word of honor to 
return to Disentis, where Madam von Castelberg was 


DE A TH AND WO ENDS. 


205 


awaiting both his return and his protection. He stayed. 
He hoped to be able to explain things to his benefactress, 
and forgot his danger. His reflection was : “ The only 
thing wanted for the performance of duty is courage : then 
alone does its performance become a virtue.” 

In the meantime Malariva awoke, and stared motionless 
at his sympathizing watcher, without answering his ques- 
tions. After a considerable pause, during which he seemed 
to have time to collect himself, and try and remember 
things, he said, with a heavy sigh : “ Good morning ! Al- 
ready daylight ? Uncommonly tired and exhausted ! Rest 
will do me good. But this rabble ! They plunder friend 
and enemy. Can one sleep in safety ? Let the past be 
forgotten. I want to sleep. Will you watch over me ? 
They might rob me ! ” 

Flavian, in order to quiet him, promised to do every- 
thing he wanted. Then Malariva asked him to take out 
of his coat-pocket, saturated with blood, a large pocket- 
book filled with papers and letters, and out of his belt a 
purse filled with gold, and to keep them for him while he 
was asleep. But suddenly Malariva stretched his un- 
wounded arm out, and cried with suspicion, or rather 
terror: “What? No! never! Give it here! Here! 
Purse ! pocket-book ! ” Prevost laid both down on the bed 
beside the wounded man, without saying a word. 

“ It won’t do,” said the Marquis, after long reflection : 
“The greedy eyes of these robbers. You are a man of 
honor : don’t open anything. Take them. I trust you. 
Hide them till I wake up.” 

When thoroughly satisfied that things were as he 
wanted them, his eyelids closed from sheer weakness. He 
seemed to be sleeping. But presently he again stretched 
out his arm, as though repenting of what he had done, and 
murmured, in a feeble voice without looking up: “No! 
Xo !— Give it here ! Give it here ! ” and again sank back 
either delirious, or fainting, or into sleep. There was a 


206 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS, 


soraetliing horrible in tlie behavior of the unfortunate man, 
like stifled anguish, or the agony of hell, or a frightful 
, struggle against fate, liis countenance terrified the young 
man. He turned away, and stepped to the window of the 
room, whither, even while engaged with the wounded man, 
his glance had frequently been directed. 


XXXVIII. 


THE BETREAT, 

F rom time to time, men who seemed to have con. 

from the battle-field crossed the castle-square, which 
hitherto had been empty and desert-like. Their numbers 
soon increased, their pace quickened. Flavian opened one 
of the sides of the window. bTo one heeded him, no one 
spoke a single word, even with the next man to him. 
Every soul walked forward in solemn silence, the armed as 
W'cll as the unarmed. 

Astonished at the mysterious character of this proces- 
sion, Flavian shouted and asked what it meant. He re- 
ceived no answer ; hardly a man looked back at the speaker. 
Finally he left the room ; went to the castle gate, on to 
the square ; laid hold of the first man he came upon, and 
asked : “ Where are you going, good friend ? ” The man 
quietly disengaged himself, and seemed not to understand 
the question. Flavian repeated it to a second. “ Bad ! ” 
was the answer. 

In the meantime, a compact stream of men came pour- 
ing over the bridge, among whom could be seen the tow- 
ering form of Uli Coin, shouting and giving orders right 
and left. Flavian called him. No sooner did Uli perceive 
the rifle captain than he pushed his way through the crowd, 
and made for him. 

“ Zounds ! captain, what are you loitering and gaping 
here for?” he exclaimed; “I looked for you yesterday 
and to-day in every hole and corner, and now you are 
standing there as quietly as a man before an inn-door on a 
Sunday evening. Come away ! fly ! our beautiful game 


208 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


has been lost, because the imperial troops left us in the 
lurch. It’s a sin and a shame ; tramps in hand and still 
to lose. It’s all up. Be quick ! They are on our heels.” 

“ I will not move from here. Malariva lies mortally 
wounded in the castle.” 

“ Who ? Malariva ? Let the varmint die ! Do you want, 
for his sake, to get your skin riddled with — French bullets? 
The devil’s hussars are close at heels : away, before they 
come ! ” 

“ Happen what may, Uli, I shall stay with the Marquis, 
he has my word for it. Go wherever you like. Save 
yourself.” 

“ I go without you ? Nothing of the sort, captain. If 
you are not afraid of the devil, I can certainly put up 
with his grandmother at a pinch. I will stay with you, 
until you feel inclined to go ; the will must soon answer 
the need. So just let us see how the old fox is getting on 
inside. He had much better have remained at home in his 
hole, than to have stretched out his brush to the hounds.” 

Uli followed the captain into the castle, to the blood- 
stained pillow of the Marquis. The latter lay, as before, 
with his eyes closed, and breathing but slightly. 

“ If we could only find a doctor ! ” sighed Flavian 
anxiously. 

Uli scanned the wounded man on all sides, shook his 
head and said : “ That the Marquis ? I can’t recognize 
liim. His coat is more like itself than his face. Believe 
me, captain, he has whistled his last tune. Let us wish him 
good-night, and take care of ourselves.” 

“ It really does seem,” said Flavian, “ as though he 
were nearing his end. I pity him. A man in the very 
prime of life ! ” 

“Well, captain, the whole of life is beautiful; but 
death doesn’t keep an almanac and when he knocks, doesn’t 
inquire about your birthday.” 

“ Speak softly,” said Flavian, “ you will wake him.” 


THE RETREA T. 


209 


“Oil ! ho ! nobody will disturb his sleep again, and he 
has unlearned how to hear. Look, he is stretching out his 
legs. He is dying. Let us say a prayer for him and then 
be olf.” 

Meanwhile the Marquis opened his eyes. They were 
glassy and fixed like those of a fish. He whispered with 
a broken voice: “Who die? What? Won’t die!” A 
ghastly grin came over his face, he turned on his side and 
cried out, ‘air ! air ! ’ raised himself half up, and screamed 
as though in the sternest agony of death : “ Won’t die ! 
daren’t die ! won’t ! ” — Deathly pallor overspread his face. 
He fell back with the death rattle in his throat. He was 
dead ; but his lustreless, fixed eyes remained open ; his 
face assumed a bluish hue and became longer. A stream 
of blood flowed from his mouth. Flavian turned away 
with horror from the sight. 

“ God have mercy on him, they say, when a man is at 
the last,” sighed Illi Goin, “ I am not hard on dead people. 
I hope all his sins will be forgiven. Now let us be up and 
off!” He took hold of the captain with his powerful arm, 
and hurried him out of the castle into the crowd of fugi- 
tives, to whose lamenting masses there seemed no end. 

The day before, the landsturm had poured down from 
mountain and valley, with far-resounding shouts ; to-day 
their march was prosecuted in dead silence. Had the 
crowd not been too great, one might have imagined that 
the long ranks were an ecclesiastical procession or pilgrim- 
age in which several neighborhoods frequently join in 
Catholic countries. But instead of prayers, nothing was 
heard but the sighs of the wounded, the curses of the des- 
perate, or the groans of the wearied. 

Many remained behind utterly broken down ; others 
pushed forward in terror; some separated from the main 
body, and struck into the footpaths to the right or left in 
order once again to get to their homes, wives and children. 
In the rear was still to be heard, at no great distance, the 


210 


THE ROSE OF DI8ENTI8. 


rattle of small arms, a dropping fire here and there, and 
now and again the thunder of artillery. And every time 
this was heard there was a considerable increase in the speed 
of the hurrying and struggling mass of fugitives. 

“ Unhappy people ! ” said Flavian : “ once more sacri- 
ficed to raving factions ! Now both French and Austrians 
are tearing into its vitals.” 

“ You are right, captain,” said Uli Goin, wiping the 
sweat from his brow : “They should both have been kept 
out of the country. That’s the point. It is easy to call 
the devil into your house ; it is quite a different job to get 
him out.” 

“ I’m afraid, Uli, the most frightful part has yet to come, 
if the French learn of the second murder of their comrades. 
Indeed they must already have heard of it through those 
who escaped from Trons and Tavanaska. They will cer- 
tainly take a terrible revenge.” 

“ That is what the men of Models have brought upon 
us by their infernal fury ! ” exclaimed the Tavetscher an- 
grily : “ No cursing or swearing was of any use with them. 
For my part, they have hired the devil, and now they had 
better pay him his wages. God help us ! But, believe me, 
it wouldn’t have gone so hard with us if the imperial troops 
had kept their word at Chur. They quietly wiped their 
mouths, and let us into the mire.” 

“ Were you in the fight ? ” 

“I should rather think so, captain ! You know I am a 
soldier, and have smelled powder. Consequently they made 
me an officer. But order was out of the question. No one 
would obey. At one time, I had a couple of hundred men, 
at another a dozen only. There was as much confusion as 
there is in an Alpine snow-storm. I might bawl myself 
hoarse, the fellows were deaf. Many had seen the bottom 
of a brandy-glass too often in the morning, and were down- 
right drunk : others had swollen eyes and heads from the 
previous evening’s carouse. Look you ! Captain, ooie bad 


THE RETREAT. 


211 


egg will spoil a whole cake, they say ; hut there were far too 
many bad eggs inour cake ! So now we smell of them.” 

“ But I hear things went well at first. What made them 
run ? The strength of the enemy ? ” 

“ By no means, captain. We were ten times as strong 
as the French. We made them run like a flock of sheep. 
If the Austrians had supported us, as Malariva’s lying 
mouth told us a thousand times, they would every French- 
man would have bitten the dust. Instead of that, our beau- 
tiful allies quietly sat behind their camp-kettles cooking 
their dinner. Our men behaved nobly at first. That I 
must say. We had already pushed forward as far as the 
walls of Chur. 

“ Then the work became hot. Behind every rail and 
post there was a bluecoat and a musket, and the balls pep- 
pered like hail. That would not have mattered! We still 
advanced. Suddenly there appeared in our midst, as though 
they had fallen from the sky, a regiment or two of hussars 
with gleaming sabres. Then things changed. Everyone 
took to his heels who was not ridden down or didn’t want 
a slash in the neck. The cannon began to play upon us. 
The bullets whistled like birds. Hundreds upon hundreds 
of brave men fell who deserved a better grave.” 

“ And how did you get away, IJli ? ” 

“ I ? well ! in the first place, I thank heaven for having 
a pair of good, long legs, and in the second place for getting 
them off without damage. We finally halted at the nearest 
houses in Eras. Everyone who had a rifle and powder fell 
into the ranks again, or did sharpshooters’ duty from the 
stables and houses. Others were sent forward to bring 
back the fugitives. I was ordered to hold the bridge of 
Ileichenau. It is all very well to command. I shouted 
myself hoarse, but the devil had fairly got into the men. 
And it is a hard job to make fur when you have neither 
hair nor wool. I couldn’t work miracles. Finally we got 
here.” 


212 


THE ROSE OF DI8ENTIS. 


During the ensuing conversation, which must have 
shortened the road, night closed in. The cannon of the 
pursuing enemy was silent. The weary fugitives of the 
unfortunate landsturm marched more slowly : or sought 
shelter in the villages, huts and barns. It was an unrefresh- 
ing, anxious night: many passed it without anything to 
eat or drink. Flavian, accompanied* by the trusty Uli, 
reached Disentis and the Castelberg mansion the next 
day. The terrible news of the great defeat had preceded 
them. 


XXXIX. 


TEE FAREWELL. 

’'l/TADAM Castelberg received the rifle captain like 
the saving vision of a guardian angel. She had 
never doubted his intention to redeem his pledge ; but she 
had trembled for his life in the storm of war into which he 
had been whirled. And although of all the inhabitants of 
Disentis, she had the least to fear from the vengeance of 
I the French troops, on account of the letter of protection 
which she held, still it was a comfort to hm* to have at her 
side a man of mind and courage, who could still lay claim 
to being in the French army. 

The best the kitchen and cellar contained was joyfully 
served up to the two adventurers. Nothing in the world 
w'as better calculated to comfort Uli. He was once more 
the most satisfied man on earth with his fate. For, inde- 
pendently of the quiet suffering ever attendant upon an 
empty stomach, he was tortured by the not inconsiderable 
anxiety as to where safety was to be found for his worthy 
person. As a leader of the insurrection, although only in 
a subordinate position, he was, like others, reduced to the 
position of a fugitive and a beggar, or, if he remained, he 
had to face the highly probable chances of a French bullet. 
He had been insured against this bitter extremity by Mr. 
Prevost, who told him, on the way, that he wmuld retain 
him as his servant ; and, in this capacity, he immediately 
received comfortable quarters from the mistress of the 
castle, in the ancient building. It was a consolation to 
her, too, to see the little garrison of her castle strengthened. 

After Flavian had given her the melancholy history of 


2U 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


tlu3 three days’ campaign, she said: ‘‘I see by your eyes 
that you are dying for sleep. You shall have it: to-nior- 
row, niy dear friend, we will continue our conversation. 
Only just a word or two more now. I have a letter for 
you from your Benedictine friend. The worthy old gentle- 
man left, either yesterday or to-day, in the suite of the 
al)bot ; for what point I do not know. He expressed his 
regret at not seeing you again. It is hardly quite right 
that, at so momentous a time, the pious shephei-ds should 
be the first to desert the flock, and leave them to a terrible 
fate, for whicli they are, at least in a measure, responsible. 
Miss von Stetten has fled too.” 

“ Then I am relieved of my engagement, and can, 
whatever may happen, now devote myself exclusively to 
your service, Madam ? ” 

“ My dear captain, such is not the case ; not longer 
than to enable you to see me over the probable danger to 
my house from the arrival of the French troops. I shall 
keep you back no longer. I have arranged this point with 
jMiss von Stetten. The unfortunate lady set out yester- 
day for Brigels, where she and her invalid friend will be 
Avell cared for by the mayor, who is one of my acquaint- 
ances. She is waiting for you there; it is but a few 
leagues from here.” 

Flavian readily consented to all the wishes and arrange- 
ments of Madam von Castelberg. After she left him, he 
went to his room and read the Benedictine’s letter. The 
contents of the letter, however enigmatical, so attracted 
and excited him, that he took it up again and again, and 
nearly lost his sleep. 

“ Who knows,” it ran, “ my dear young friend, whether 
I shall ever see you again in this life. In times like the 
present, to count upon the coming hour is rashness. It is 
with reluctance, but by virtue of the obedience I owe liirn, 
that I accompany our abbot on his flight to Olivone, in 
the Zura valley. He may perhaps, and I hope he will, 


THE FAREWELL, 


215 


allow me, during our journey, to return to Disentis ; for 
my strength is no longer equal to the toil of so severe a 
mountain excursion. In any ease, I shall say farewell ; 
you have really won my high regard and my affection by 
your manly way of thinking. I need not commend the 
house of Castelberg to you; but I most earnestly commend 
to your care Miss Pauline von Stetten. I knew her years 
ago in Germany. She was my friend ; she is so still, and, 
unfortunately, it is partly through my fault that she got 
into this dreadful position. A few months ago, she came 
to Bünden, recommended to a certain Madam von Salis; 
then she came on a visit here, and was treated with the 
most marked cordiality by Madam von Castelberg. She 
was surprised by the entrance of the French troops, the 
insurrection of the peasants, the general insecurity of the 
country, and obliged to remain longer than she had origi- 
nally intended. I myself advised her to stay ; thinking 
that as an Austrian she would be better concealed here 
than in Chur. 

“ By everything that is dear to you, and by everything 
that may connect you with a certain Bose op Disentis, I 
beseech you to take care of the helpless lady until she is in 
perfect safety. Yes, I acknowledge it, this Pauline was 
the love of my youth ; a love at which, even to-day, I have 
not to blush ; a love for the sake of which Pauline has re- 
mained unmarried. Consequently, it is not without reason 
that I have reminded you of that Rose of Disentis. You, 
too, have loved ! I know the secret of your heart through 
my friend, who, in Vienna, was also the friend of the noble 
maiden who, misled by wicked men, discarded and con- 
demned you, while, in turn, you condemn her. And yet, 
you are both innocent. 

‘‘ Farewell ! I commend you to the protection of God. 
Get lid of your youthful even if noble misanthropy ; there 
are a great many good and virtuous people among your so- 
called half-brutes. Give up your well intentioned plans 


216 


TUE ROSE OF BISENTI8. 


for the reformation of the world ; neither you, nor the 
wisest, nor the mightiest that ever lived, can lead mankind 
to their ultimate perfection. The hand of an all-wise 
Providence alone can do that. We individual mortals 
each carry our little grain of sand towards the building of 
the eternal temple of God. Content yourself, wherever 
you meet it, with your little grain of sand, and you will 
be better satisfied with the world and with yourself, that 
is to say, you will be happier. Such is the most earnest 
wish of your friend P. Gregory.” 

“ Abbey of Disentis, May 4th, 1799.” 

Flavian had, in the last few months, tasted far too much 
of the stern experiences of life, for the last words of the 
wise Benedictine not to sink deeply into his mind. With 
this farewell of the good man, it seemed as though a supe- 
rior being were parting from him, who, in the darkest hours 
of his life, had appeared for his comfort, his instruction 
; nd the elevation of his mind. 

And Pauline, that faithful love of the old man’s youth ! 
She who, hitherto, had been so indifferent an object to Fla- 
vian, seemed to him now a kind of genius sent by fate 
perhaps to show him the way back to his lost paradise. 

Many things which, up to the present, had been in a kind 
of mysterious twilight, and had awakened in him only sur- 
prise and curiosity, now became clear through the acciden- 
tal presence of this Pauline and her connection with Elfrida. 
Elfrida von Marmels had then only been / ” she 
was, perhaps, still deploring in Vienna her former harsh- 
ness ; was, perchance, still faithful to her pledge. How 
many intoxicating thoughts were awakened by this reflec- 
tion ! The work of their separation was possibly, like 
many others, the work of the evil-minded Malariva. He had 
paid for it, and paid dearly ! 

The remembrance of the Marquis’ death induced him to 
open the pocket-book handed over to him by the dead man. 
He might thereby discover something touching the secret 


THE FAREWELL. 


217 


rank of the man. He took the packet of papers, opened it, 
and glanced rapidly at the contents. But he sought in 
vain for that which he wished to find. Beyond a couple of 
almost illegible letters, without any signature, from Aus- 
trian headquarters, containing questions and directions 
couched in military terms, and letters from a Vienna bank- 
ing-house, which probably looked after his money matters, 
the rest consisted in capital and interest accounts of the 
Marquis’ own property, that of the Countess of Grienenburg, 
and of her step-daughter Elfrida von Marmels. 

Flavian, indifferent, and perhaps disappointed, tied up 
the papers which might be of some importance to Malari- 
va’s heirs as well as to the two ladies whose protector or 
guardian the Marquis had been. But the feelings of yearn- 
ing love flamed up in the young man’s breast with increased 
intensity ; feelings which had formerly constituted the 
purest happiness, and which even now brought sweetness 
with their very pain. He counted the hours which would 
still have to elapse before he should make the acquaintance 
of Pauline von Stetten. She seemed to him to be the link 
in the chain which had been wanting between him and 
Elfrida. ' 


zo 


XL. 


FEESH DANGER. 


HE next morning Uli Goin bounded terrified into hio 



JL master’s room and cried out : “ Up ! Up ! who can 
tell the future on the cards ? Maybe the last day of our lives 
has come for every mother’s child of us. They are fighting 
the French outside again. A remnant of the landsturm 
must have got together again. Still there is nothing but 
weak platoon-firing to be heard. Whoever can do so, is fly- 
ing into the highest mountains and forests. The French are 
at hand, close upon us ! ” 

Prevost jumped hastily out of bed, threw on his clothes, 
and the long blue overcoat which the French officers were 
at that time accustomed to wear on the march. He then 
buckled on his sabre. He had completed the most necessa- 
ry details of his military toilet when slight knocking was 
heard at the door. Madam von Castelberg entered, weak 
and trembling, with agony speaking from her eyes and 
stamped on every feature. 

“ What will become of us unfortunate people ! ” she 
sighed : “ The drums of the approaching enemy are to be 
heard at no great distance, and the last weak effort of the 
peasants will only have increased their fury. Here, my 
dear captain, take the testimonial of the officers and of 
General Loison ! perhaps he himself is in command of the 
troops. Ask him for a guard for the castle and beg him 
to spare Disentis. Or, what would you do, what shall I 


do ? ” 


“ Do not distress yourself, Madam,” answered Flavian ; 
“ Our God is near ! I will go to the general, whoever he 


FRESH JDAHGEB. 


219 


may be. In the meantime you prepare for the numerous 
comers as good a breakfast as circumstances will permit.” 

However calmly he may have spoken, in order to pacify 
his hostess, he himself certainly felt anything but comfort- 
able. It was with the greatest trouble that he could buoy 
up, even in a small degree, this usually resolute woman. 
She left him to make the necessary preparations for receiv- 
ing her hostile guests. While he was breakfasting, Uli 
went out from time to time to pick up news. The faithful 
servant had learned, from one of the fugitive peasants, 
that the defeat suffered by the peasantry on the battle-fields 
of Chur and Ems had been bloodier than w^as supposed ; 
that many hundreds from various neighborhoods had per- 
ished ; that the French, about two thousand strong, had halt- 
ed below the castle, and were about to march into Disentis. 

Presently, indeed, the roll of the drum was heard nearer 
and louder. Flavian seized his forage cap, went out into 
the court-yard, and quietly took up a position before the 
gate. The advanced guard of the batallion had already 
passed along the rugged mountain road near the chapel 
of St. Placidus. 

From the hollow on the right, there projected glittering 
bayonets, guns and standards, as though an army were 
growing out of the earth. Flavian advanced a few steps 
towards the troops. He asked an officer standing near, the 
name of the general in command. “ General Chabran,” 
was the answer. It w^as now Flavian’s turn to answer, 
and say who he was, he who, with the cockade in his hat, 
and the uniform of a French officer, could not even tell the 
name of his commanding general, and thus aroused 'well- 
founded suspicion. The rifle captain gave the most com- 
plete information. The Frenchman did not, however, seem 
disposed to trust him. “ You may be whom you choose,” 
said he ; “ but I must beg you, meanwhile, to keep close 
to me. I will present you to the general, you may clear 
up the matter with him.” 


220 


THE BOSE OF DISENTIS. 


‘‘I am obliged to you,” answered the prisoner, “just 
what I want. I was on the point of looking for him my- 
self.” 

Just then General Chabran, with his adjutants, rode up 
and ordered a halt, as soon as the troops had reached the 
meadow between the village and the chapel. They were 
drawn up here. The superior officers approached the com- 
mander. He gave his final orders. As soon as they had 
returned to their respective posts, Flavian was taken by 
his still suspicious keeper to the general. After listening 
to a few words from his zealous subordinate, he turned 
dryly to Prevost and asked: “Who are you? What are 
you doing here ? Where do you belong to ? ” 

With the same brevity, precision and firmness, Prevost 
recounted his misadventures with the army. As a proof 
of his statement, he handed over the letter of General De- 
rnont, and Poison’s certificate. Chabran glanced at the 
papers, gave them back and said : “ Citizen Prevost, I 
have you on my list. It is well that you presented your- 
self. You have come just in time. I have but little time 
now. Is that grey mass of stones up there really the 
castle of Castelberg ? ” 

“ Yes, general, the asylum of the French officers who 
were made prisoners. At the present moment its mistress 
is waiting to ofier you its hospitality.” 

“It certaiuly is no fairy-castle, but perfectly in unison 
with this mountain- wilderness,” said the general, with a 
slight smile: “Wait for me there. Are there anymore 
gatherings of peasants here? Ho they still mean fight- 
ing?” 

“ bTo, general, they have repented of their mad freak.” 

The drums rolled. The general hastened away. The 
troops entered the village. A small detachment of twenty 
men made for the castle on the left ; on the right a com- 
pany marched up to the abbey. Behind Hisentis detach- 
ments of troops were seeu moving across the fields, making 


FRESH DANGER. . 221 

for the last and highest points in the highlands, Tavetsch, 
Kueras and other more distant places. 

On his return to the castle, Flavian found Madam von 
Castelberg less downcast; but busied with the whole 
household in serving refreshments to the soldiers in charge. 
According to the polite announcement of the lieutenant 
commanding them, these men had been specially detailed 
by the general as a guard over the castle, in token of grati- 
tude for the generous shelter which, in the previous insur- 
rection, had saved the lives of the French soldiers. 

Later, the general himself appeared with a numerous 
staff, to partake of the breakfast which had been long wait- 
ing for him. He was a pleasant man of about thirty-five 
years ; distinguished among the French generals as much 
for his personal bravery and ability as for his mildness and 
moderation ; playful and serious at the right time. He 
managed to say so many obliging things to the lady of the 
house touching the nobleness she had displayed after Loi- 
son’s retreat, and satisfied her so thoroughly with regard to 
the safety of her person and property, that she cast a joy- 
ous look at Prevost, and, indeed, ventured to beg for mercy 
for the poor inhabitants of Disentis and the neighbor- 
hool. 

“You ask for mercy!” said Chabran ; “I am by no 
means hard-hearted, to say nothing of being cruel ; but 1 
must be just, and have some regard to the honor and safety 
of the troops, even though it go to my heart to punish 
deluded, fanatical men according to the code of war. On 
the night of the 4th-5th of May, in this village, our soldiers 
who had been captured and those quartered here were mur- 
dered in the most barbarous fashion. Citizen Prevost here, 
and the wounds with which he escaped, can best testify to 
the fact. Still, this inhumanity was repaid by us with hu- 
manity. The commander-in-chief, General Massena, con- 
tented himself with demanding the surrender of the ring- 
leaders. Instead of gratitude for our magnanimity, and at 


222 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


the very time that we were fighting for the Bündners, the 
second insurrection was organized and the second murder 
j)erpetrated. Here, here in Disentis, more than a hundred 
French soldiers, despite a formal capitulation, were basely 
and cruelly assassinated ! Can the fate. Madam, of the 
widows and orphans of the murdered soldiers be a matter 
of indifference to you ? Ought it be to us ? ” 

Madam von Castelberg answered only with downcast 
eyes and a sigh. 

“ I demand immediately,” coi\tinued the general, “ for 
these poor widows and orphans, a contribution of at least 
10,000 francs by to-morrow, the surrender of the first 
ringleaders among the landsturm and of the villains who 
began the murder, or — ! ” 

“ The inhabitants of Disentis are, as true as God lives, 
innocent of the dreadful deed, and it can be proved that 
they, as well as some of the Benedictines, endeavored to 
prevent it at the risk of their own lives,” exclaimed Madam 
von Castelberg. Prevost confirmed her statement. 

“ I can enter personally into no inquiries,” answered 
the general ; “ the heads of these neighborhoods have al- 
ready been apprized of my will. I have but a short time 
allowed me, and I must do my duty. All must answer for 
the crime ; on the slightest hesitation I am forced to take 
terrible vengeance.” 

It may well be imagined that such a conversation was 
not the most pleasant that could have been heard at the rich- 
ly and substantially covered table. The general, too, arose 
soon after, and retired to another room, whither Prevost, 
at a sign from him, followed. After a long tete-a-tete, both 
returned, apparently well pleased. General Chabran took 
leave of the mistress of the house in the most charming 
manner ; assured her repeatedly of his complete protection 
so long as he commanded in the neighborhood ; mounted 
his horse, and disappeared with his staff. 

The day passed amid fears and forebodings which every 


FRESE LANGER. 


228 


one communicated to his neiglibor, each thereby increas- 
ing the anguish of the other without lessening his own. 
Reports of a fearful character ran from mouth to mouth, 
which everybody professed to discredit while still believing 
them; the places where French blood had been spilled were 
to be destroyed ; the youth to be conscribed and partitioned 
out among the French army; in the rooms of the abbot 
Kathomen had been found, among his papers, a detailed 
list of all those who had taken part in the conspiracy 
against the French army in Graubünden, and had originat- 
ed the risings : that not one of these w'as to be spared : that 
the w’ealthiest men and fathers of families were to be seized 
and taken to France as hostages. 

Even late at night, the guard at the castle was nearly 
doubled. The captain who commanded them, informed 
Madam von Castelberg of the will of the general, that she 
should care for the men ; for the rest, that she might give 
herself no concern about the safety of the castle. 

“ I am and can be in no concern ! ” she said, weeping, 
“ as she finally saw herself alone in the drawing-room with 
Prevost : “ But my unfortunate relatives and friends who 
are homeless wanderers ! shall I ever see them again, and 
when ? Are there not perhaps many of them lying in the 
fields around Chur, unburied, unknown, unmourned ! Woe 
to the idiotic madness of our political parties, who call 
foreign butchers into these valleys, and heap woe upon 
woe, merely in order to secure their own mutual destruc- 
tion ! May the mercy of God forgive them their crime, 
which they pretend to be a virtue. Still, the time for 
complaining is past. Misery is upon us ! We must save, 
and carry comfort and help where it is still possible. 
Thanks to yourself, captain, I am no longer in need of 
you to protect my person. But think of the forsaken 
Pauline von Stetten ! As early as possible to-morrow, 
get on your way, I beseech you ! and carry comfort, ad- 
vice and protection to her, as you have given them to 


224 


THE ROSE OF BISENTIS. 


me. Or has General Chabran forbidden you to move 
away ? ” 

“ Not, at all. On the contrary I have received verbal 
and written orders to join Loison’s brigade.” 

“ Loison’s brigade ? For heaven’s sake, captain Pre- 
vost, what will become of the ladies who are now without an 
adviser or support in Brigels ; who know not a single man 
in the neighborhood, and are perhaps at the present mo- 
ment in danger of insult from the soldiery ? Would that I 
had been able to prevail upon the unfortunate creatures to 
make the castle their refuge ! They would have been con- 
cealed safely here. Chabran is a humane man. But the 
timid souls were too uneasy, too frightened to listen to 
me.” 

Flavian interrupted the noble lady with the assurance 
that he intended to be ordered about by General Chabran 
jnst as little as he did by Loison. He maintained that he 
had joined the latter as a volunteer, without having made 
any engagement as to time. He further stated that at day- 
break he would start for Brigels, and seek Pauline von 
Stetten. 

“ Do not let us say farewell ! ” said the hostess after a 
long conversation : “ Our hearts are full enough of grief 

and anguish already. Why torture them with fresh pains. 
God be with you ! you noble young man. Let me hear 
from you soon. Good night ! ” 

She held out her hand. He kissed it, and a few tears 
dropped upon it. She left the room weeping. 


XLI. 

TEE FINAL DEPAETURK 



'ROM the valley the Alpine glaciers looked resplendent, 


^ in the morning light. The denizens of the castle still 
lay in the arms of the god of sleep, oblivious of all the suf- 
ferings and terrors of the day. Flavian, accompanied by 
Uli Goin, left the ancient castle which had become so dear 
to him ; passed the French sentries with a greeting, and 
entered upon his journey in quest of the lady conhded to 
his care. In the letters which he left behind he said all 
that love and gratitude could, in the moment of separation, 
with a possible chance of its being forever, to Madam 
V )n Castelberg, as well as to the noble-hearted Benedic- 


tine. 


As he descended the rugged mountain-road, and the 
modest village of Disentis gradually disappeared with the 
abbey that towered so proudly over it, the majesty of its 
proportions heightened by the glimmering of the dawn ; 
then, as he left behind him the weather-beaten walls of the 
castle, his heart felt lighter, as though it had more room to 
beat, as though he was just escaping from a terrible night- 
mare. The well-known ruins of the castle of Disla, piled 
upon one another in wild confusion, and its poor huts were 
soon left behind. He went on through the villages of 
Compadiels, Sumvix and Trons, to the sacred maple and 
its chapel, where he left the valley which was to be for- 
ever connected with the most fearful memories of his life. 
He took the path to the left towards the Tumpio range, 
whence can be seen tlie silver peaks of the Kistenberg and 
the Selbsanft. 


I o' 


226 


THE ROSE OF D18ENTI8. 


The two wayfarers were stopped at every point by the 
French outposts, questioned and detained; and thus spent 
the greater part of the morning in getting over about three 
leagues of road. They made their journey all the more 
quietly up to the elevated plateau of the Kulmattenberg, 
where nestles the village of Biigels, in the midst of green 
meadows and little cultivated patches, four thousand feet 
above the sea. The landscape became more desert-like ; 
not a single fruit-tree was there with its shade and blos- 
soms ; but a purer air was to be breathed and felt, and a 
fresh breeze from the recesses of the glacier-framed valley 
of Frisäl tempered the hot rays of the May sun. 

Uli Goin, who, since the lamentable overthrow of the 
landsturm, had shown very little of the old heroic temper, 
and, in the vicinity of the foreign victors, could not have 
had the most peaceful conscience, seemed secretly glad to 
slip from under the suspicious eyes of the French outposts 
in a respectable manner. Besides, he had found a master 
than whom he could not possibly desire a better, and at 
the same time, would now be able to take the world quite 
comfortably. Out of the fulness of his heart he would 
have sung a song with all his might, had he not been 
afraid of attracting the attention of the French in the 
valley, and of getting the unwelcome admirers of his music 
after him. He therefore contented himself with keeping 
up a running fire of remarks to his young master, and did 
not seem to care whether he got any answer or not. He 
was never chattier, nor, after his fashion, more full of wit 
and adage than when others held their tongue. 

Meanwhile his companion, walked on in silence, dream- 
ing of the past and of the future ; at one time anxious 
about the fate of his benefactress in the castle, at another 
happy at the prospect of once more embracing his sister, 
on the Rhine ; again perplexed as to the safest way of get- 
ting the Austrian beauty, whose knight and protector he 
had promised to be, safely through the contending armies. 


HIE FINAL DEPARIUHE. 


227 


His thoughts were finally centered upon this lady with 
the pretty hand, this unknown sharer of the dearest and 
most painful secret of his life; and his interest was still 
more intense the nearer he approached the place of their 
present retreat. “How,” thought he, “if the wife of the 
judge and the Benedictine had been silent upon the most 
important point? How if the unknown Pauline were 
EHrida von Marmels herself?” A wonderful thrill went 
through the inmost recesses of his nature as this thought 
flashed across his mind. And, however much he might 
endeavor to banish the thought as a piece of too romantic 
day-dreaming, it came back again irresistibly as though 
it were a foreboding. 

What curious combination, he thought, had been able to 
decoy this timid maiden from the comforts of a Vienna pal- 
ace into the dirty huts and uninhabitable deserts of this 
mountain land ; or what had been able to force her to ex- 
change the safety of the great imperial city for the neigh- 
borhood of bloody battle-fields and insurrection ? Tlie 
Countess von Grienenburg, her step-mother, was dead, El- 
frida an orphan. More, the Marquis Malariva, her guardian, 
who had once aspired to her hand, had come to Bünden, 
whither, possibly to assure himself of her person, he had 
brought her himself. Was the veiled figure, which had ap- 
peared at his sick-bed in Disentis and had silently and im- 
pressively shown him the medallion, really but the feverish 
creation of fancy, but the deceptive play of the disordered 
eye-nerves ? And when he thought of the young peasant 
girl, whose form, walk and bearing so strongly reminded 
him of Elfrida as she passed under the rocky ruins of Disla ; 
and when he remembered the strange confusion of the grey 
Benedictine at her appearance, then — 

Occupied with similar comforting reflections he finally 
found himself in front of the door of the mayor of Brigels. 
All the blood in his body flew to his heart and head. He 
could scarcely breathe ; he yearned, and at the same time 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


2‘2S 

feared, to see her whom by turns he felt impelled to love and 
to despise. But Uli dashed boldly into the house, and into 
a room where the mayor was seated at dinner with his fam- 
ily. The mayor greeted the new-comers, and at once rec- 
ognized them as the guests announced by Madam von 
Castelberg. But, according to his account, the terrified 
ladies had fled farther the day previous, as soon as the ru- 
mor of the actual advance of the French troops had got 
abroad, and the statement was superadded that a detach- 
ment of them would infallibly march up to Brigels. 

“ I myself,” continued the honorable head of the com- 
munity, “ I myself, sir, could hardly, under such circum- 
stances advise the poor fugitives to stay any longer with 
me. The French troops are too well known ! So the trem- 
bling ladies betook themselves to the road again. Well, 
God will make everything work for the best ! My advice 
to them was to go to Panix. That is the last inhabited 
point up the mountains. The clergyman to whom I sent 
them is a good, humane man. He frequently entertains 
travellers, in the summer-time, going from the Sernf valley 
over the Quolm Glaruna. I got two handy mountain nags ; 
for ladies of that kind have no feet for our rough roads, not 
even nailed shoes. Two of them could easily sit on one 
horse, the elder lady, who is still quite beautiful, and the 
young girl, a fresh, plump, red-cheeked, livc'ly body, prob- 
ably the elder lady’s maid. But I pity them both to have 
to wander about with a wretched cripple, a sick lady of 
whom they are taking care. For her I had to arrange a 
chair and to prop her up with pillows. The poor creature 
was carried in this manner by a few strong men from here 
to Panix. The tottering thing makes me feel sad. I think 
she has either leprosy or cancer. Her whole face is eaten 
away.” 

While the host was continuing this circumstantial nar- 
rative, Uli was assisting the mistress of the house, with 
whom he kept up a very lively conversation, to cook the 


TUE FINAL I) EP ARTFEE, 


229 


dinner and lay the table. Flavian, who was reassured, 
because, from the mayor’s description he was convinced 
that Pauline certainly could not be Elfrida, erjjoyed the 
simple but plentiful repast. And as soon as the earthen- 
ware was emptied, he immediately settled his bill and 
ordered his refreshed fellow-traveller to start with him for 
Panix. 

They might both have proceeded about a league on 
their way, engaged in lively conversation, when their talk 
was rudely interrupted by a very extraordinary circum- 
stance. Suddenly there came on the breeze a frightful, 
dull, overpowering noise, which thundered along the rocky 
sides of the mountain peaks, and was repeated as soon as it 
seemed to be dying away. It seemed as though a whole 
mountain had toppled over and thundered down into the 
abyss. 

“ What is that? ” exclaimed Flavian, suddenly stopping 
and looking in every direction, finally at the blue vault of 
heaven across which not a single cloud flitted. 

“ It was like a thunder-clap in a terrible storm,” said 
I"^li, who, in amazement, rapidly scanned the crests of the 
Alpine chain : “ Early thunder brings late hunger, captain. 
But it was not thunder, and was a louder report than that 
of the cannon, which has been singing in my ears ever 
since Ems. Some tremendous avalanche must have torn 
away from the glaciers, like the one in ’49 which shot 
down from the Malamusa at the Crispalt and buried the 
whole village of Rueras with hundreds of men. Mark me, 
we shall soon come on Job’s messenger. The report do^'sn’t 
always precede disaster, but a limping messenger is sure 
to follow it.” 

“ Look, LTli ! look across towards the high Piz Cavaradi, 
and the broad Sixmadaun — there ! that is somewhere near 
Tavetsch or Disentis ! Look at the cloud that is rising like 
a great fog.” 

“ Allow me, captain ! that kind of fog is seen more 


230 


TEE BOSE OF EISEETIS. 


among pots and kettles than among snow-mountains. 
That looks like rising smoke. But a hundred cannon dis- 
charged together would not make such a report as the one 
that just made the mountains shake. One could almost 
swear the earth had burst asunder, spit out smoke and 
flames and swallowed up the — Ph*enchmen, boots and all. 
And if it did, it would not be the worst thing that could 
happen.” 

“ In any case, something extraordinary has happened,” 
said Flavian, “ something terrible ! just look ! the moun- 
tains are growing dimmer in the thick brown, grey and 
yellow clouds that are driving through one another.” 

“ Captain, I don’t want you to take my word for it : 
but remember what I say ! St. Placidus doesn’t stand any 
nonsense, and one miracle more or less is very little to him. 
I will wager he has played the stinking heretics, the French, 
a trick that will blind and deafen them. These heathens 
have been coming it altogether too strong, and after all, 
God can catch them one time or another.” 

“ I should almost imagine that a couple of dozen powder 
wagons had been blown up. The grey sea of fog or smoke 
is increasing rather than clearing oflf.” 

After both had exhausted all surmises, they pursued 
their journey, but their heads were almost constantly 
turned back. 


XLII. 


TEE VIC AB AGE. 

T hey finally struck the little Alpine valley of Panix 
with its few wooden huts, perched on the green slope 
I of one of the mountains, which gradually merged into rocks, 
waterfalls, ice-fields and the dark masses of the peaks, 
i For a great distance around these heights there was 
I not a tree or a shrub to be seen. Little knots of men and 
' women were standing about trying to make out what the 
thunder-clap meant which they had heard here from the 
heart of the land. They turned to the passing strangers 
for information. Uli Goin immediately shouted out to 
them, without the least hesitation, that it was the vem 
geance of St. Placidus against the enemies of their religion, 
the foreign blasphemers, that he had destroyed them root 
and branch ; that the earth had opened beneath their feet 
and they were swallowed up alive into the infernal abyss. 

The terrified peasant women crossed themselves with a 
look of horror ; a few old men nodded significantly, and 
some of the younger ones smiled incredulously. The trav- 
ellers were shown the vicarage, which was roofed like the 
other buildings with broad shingles weighted with massive 
stones to prevent their being carried away by the wind. 
A short passage led into the clean, panelled apartment of 
the clergyman, the chief ornaments of which were a clock 
from the Black-Forest, a barometer, a side! oard with 
crockery and a few books, a worm-eaten crucifix, and a 
couple of indiflferent pictures of saints. The stone-built 
stove, with its seats, and the railing running round its top 
for drying clothes, took up most of the room. 


232 


THE ROSE OF DI8ENTIS. 


A lively, elderly man, almost too carelessly dressed to 
be taken for a clergyman, announced himself as the incum- 
bent. Upon Prevost’s inquiries for Miss von Stetten, he 
courteously hastened to call the lady, who, he said, was 
awaiting him with impatience. 

She came, accompanied by a young, healthy looking 
girl, who showed by her respectful attitude that she was 
her servant. After the first customary civilities, questions, 
excuses, polite assurances, and the rest, which pave the 
way to closer acquaintance, they took seats on the wooden 
benches. The dialogue was continued, but in so general 
a way, about Disentis, friends there, the terrible report, 
the landsturm and the French, that even Uli Goin got 
tired, and began a conversation with the ecclesiastic touch- 
ing the most effectual method of quenching thirst. Fla- 
vian and the lady seemed hardly to speak, in order the 
better to scrutinize each other, and, at the same time, to 
conceal and satisfy their curiosity. 

The first strangeness soon passed away. They seemed 
to experience a gratification in seeing each other ; the 
lady contemplated with pleasure her prospective acquaint- 
ance with Elfrida’s handsome young cavalier ; while the 
rifle captain was delighted to meet in his new ward, the 
fiiend of his first love. Pauline von Stetten approved 
herself a lady of education and tender, at times over tender 
susceptibilities. She w'as, it is true, no longer in the prime 
of her beauty, but still full of attraction ; of beautiful fig- 
ure, clothed in the quietest possible travelling dress, but 
still in such a way as to show her lovely form, with perhaps 
a shade too much of carelessness. Every word she uttered 
was rendered attractive by a gentle, winning smile; while 
her large, liquid blue eyes bespoke the deep and tender 
melancholy of her soul. Her maid was a complete contrast 
to her. Her name was Theresa, — a laughing, plump, heal- 
thy maiden with a round face and a glib tongue. She ini- 
injdiately showed her preference for Uli over the incumbent 


THE VICARAGE. 


233 


And would you allow me, Miss,” said Flavian, at last, 
“ to touch the chief point briefly ? You doubtless intend to 
continue your journey either to-day or to-morrow.” 

“ As soon as possible, Mr. Prevost. But, for your sake, 
I am sorry to say, what you already know, that I am entire- 
ly dependent in my movements upon a dear sick friend 
who is with me. Her condition and the state of the 
weather will have to decide the question. During the 
journey from Vienna to Chur her condition was not such 
as to give any uneasiness. Who could have believed that 
it would have changed so terribly in a couple of months ! ” 

“ Miss Clara told me, a minute ago,” said Theresa, 
readily volunteering her information, “ that she felt splen- 
didly in the air of the mountains ; so restored that she 
could travel round the whole world. But this frightlul 
climate takes all the skin oflf my cheeks and lips.” 

“We will wait until to-morrow,” continued Pauline, 
“and see how my friend is, and how the weather holds up. 
For, in any case, we must take the road over the mountains. 
I would rather take it with all the perils of nature, than 
encounter the brutality of our enemies.” 

“ The weather will be fine ! ” said the incumbent, tap- 
ping the barometer ; “the mercury stands at 21.8.” 

“ So low ? ” said Flavian, astonished. 

“ Because we stand high ! ” answered the weather-wise 
clergyman ; “ at least 4560 feet above the Mediterranean ! 
But at the top of the Panix pass you will be 2830 feet 
higher.” 

“ Jesus, Mary ! ” said Theresa, laughing with a look of 
anxiety : “ I don’t want to go to heaven yet. Don’t be 
offended, reverend sir, I would rather hear the regimental 
music in the Augarten, than, at my age, listen above to the 
singing of the angels. I always turn giddy when I think 
of going up to heaven.” 

“ Then you want to take the shortest road to Uri or 
Glarus?” said Prevost, turning to Pauline: “It is un- 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


23J: 

known to me, but any road will be equally pleasant in your 
company.” 

“ The incumbent says it is not dangerous,” answered 
Pauline ; “and I should like to make for Glarus, where I 
hope to meet friends of Madam von Castelberg, with whom 
— I meant to say — the name has quite escaped me ! ” she 
added, blushing : “ But the road is not dangerous, rever- 

end sir ? ” 

“Thoroughly good, perfect!” said the reverend gen- 
tleman. “ It is only a footpath, it is true, but cattle can 
pass over it during the summer. You might still find snow 
in the Jätzer gully ! But I’ll give you sturdy men, strong 
enough to carry the ladies down in their arms if necessary. 
Once past the Gorge, all risk is over. For — ” 

“Gully, Gorge ! fearful names,” said Theresa, with 
comical terror: “For God’s sake, my dear, good lady, I 
beg and pray of you 1 if we must get into danger, let us 
throw ourselves rather into the arms of the French, than 
into the horrible clefts of the rocks ! ” 

The incumbent, undisturbed either by this little outburst, 
or -by the laughter of Uli Goin which followed, continued 
with great seriousness: “You will certainly want to pass 
the night either in Elm or in Matt. It is just an agreeable 
day’s journey for ladies. Don’t alarm yourselves. In three 
hours you will have reached the top of the Araschka and 
Grath, and in about the same time Binkenkopf, and three 
hours more will bring you over the Wichleralp to Elm.” 

After much consultation, projecting and reconsideration, 
Pauline courageously decided to brave the gully and gor<ye, 
should her sick companion feel well enough the next dav. 
The latter, who was from time to time visited by the ser- 
vant and Pauline in turns, did not altogether reject the 
notion. 


XLIII 


THE BURNING OF DISENTIS. 



the following morning, the golden glory of the 


glaciers, the dark blue sky, and the stillness of the 
air foretold a lovely May day. Saddle horses were got 
ready in the village, a stock of food and wine was packed 
for the travellers, so that they might be put to no incon- 
venience in the dreary solitudes of the mountains. A kind 
of litter was improvised out of the incumbent’s best chair, 
and crampons were looked up to attach to the feet of the 
men during their march across the slippery snow slopes. 
Flavian and Pauline were chatting at breakfast. They 
seemed to become more pleased with each other, and to 
desire an increase of mutual confidence. For both felt 
that while they wanted to cultivate greater intimacy, there 
was a certain something which restrained them. Pauline 
contemplated Flavian with a constant look of friendliness 
and suspicion ; and he raised his eyes to Pauline with a 
constant expression of ineptiry, with a question that he 
would not articulate, whether prevented by his manly 
pride, or his unwillingness to betray his cherished secret 
to those who were perpetually coming and going. Up to 
the present, he had had no opportunity of speaking alone 
to the friend of his pupil on the harp. 

“That’s it!” exclaimed Uli Goin, stepping into the 
room pale and solemn: “One misfortune on the top of 
another! Come in, Iceli Cajacos, come in, and tell it 
yourself! Yes, captain, the greater the feast, the grimmer 
the devil. I shall never laugh again as long as I live. 
Tavetsch and Disentis have been blown up. A certain 


23C 


THE ROSE OF D18ENTI8. 


]\[r. von Castelberg was shot as he was flying across the 
meadows. Zounds! I wish the devil would lend me his 
claws for a quarter of an hour, I’d pile every mountain in 
the chain on the top of this hellish brood of Frenchmen ; 
they shouldn’t be able to crawl out even at the day of 
judgment.” 

“ Are you raving, Uli ? ” said Flavian, springing up 
from the table in alarm : “ blown up ? ” 

“ Speak, friend ! What has happened ? ” said Pauline 
trembling. 

“ Ah ! Tceli escaped from Disentis in the night, and 
is telling all about it outside,” answered Uli ; “ Come in, 
Iceli Cajacos, and let the lady and gentleman hear. No ! 
the destruction of Jerusalem wasn’t a bit worse.” 

Flavian went outside with Pauline. Seated on a bench 
in front of the vicarage, was a young peasant, terror and 
exhaustion in every feature, surrounded by a crowd of 
anxious listeners. The incumbent tried to encourage and 
console him with various quotations from the Bible, and at 
the same time filled him out a glass of gentian water to 
cheer him up. 

“Come, come take a drink, my poor fellow! ” said Uli 
to him : “ I believe you, such a dreadful sight is enough 

to freeze the blood and unman one. Wasn’t Lot’s wife 
turned into a pillar of salt when she looked back at the 
burning city? Reverend sir, give him another glass ! And 
if you can, give me one too. Drinking is not boozing, a 
drop of brandy eases the tongue. And now Iceli, give us 
the account down to a hair ; but begin at the beginning; 
don’t lay hold of the cow by the tail, but give us the end 
last. Dost understand, comrade ? ” 

After the young peasant had emptied his glass, he gave 
a deep sigh and began : “ It was yesterday, no, the day be- 
fore yesterday, the enemy’s forces marched in upon us with 
murderous yells, drums beating ; some halted in Disentis, 
others marched forward. But you should have seen the 


THE BURmm OF HISENTI8. 


237 


fearful faces of the grenadiers with their moustaches. We 
did not know what was going to happen. Well so far so 
good. The chief men of the community were taken to the 
court-house, and the general at first saluted them politely, 
hat in hand, but then demanded ten or twelve thousand 
guilders as a fine for what the landsturm had done. And 
that had to be paid upon the spot. But, God help us ! 
where could we get so much money ! All the rich folks 
were gone. They began the war, but when it came to fight- 
ing, they saved their wigs and we had to pay with our 
own hair. The gentlemen belonging to the convent were 
safe across the mountains, and yet had promised signs and 
wonders. Well, so far so good, and we poor people — ” 

Zounds ! Cajacos ! that was worse than bad,” cried 
Uli : “for people say where there is much money the devil 
is at home : But I say that where there is none you will 
i find two of them quartered.” 

“ We poor people,” continued the narrator ; “ made our 
knees sore begging for mercy. No one understood us. 
Disentis and the whole neighborhood was blue with sol- 
diers ; every house was crammed with them up to the roof. 
They ate like hungry wolves everything in the shape of 
I provisions, burst open chests and boxes, and stole what- 
! ever they could lay their hands on. Yes, you might 
have buried your little savings as deep as you liked, their 
thievish French noses scented them from afar. Adieu ye 
beautiful coins and valleys ! ” 

The grief of poor Cajacos here found vent in bitter tears. 
The listeners vied with each other in trying to comfort 
him. The incumbent again filled the glass which was‘ 
standing on the bench. Flavian pulled out his purse, and 
handed him a couple of guilders. Pauline was about to 
follow his example, but she nearly forgot her intention as 
she saw the captain’s embroidered purse. She did not 
take her eyes from it until the rifle captain again put it in 
his. pocket. 


238 


THE ROSE OF HISENTIS. 


Cajacos took the largess with silence but hearty thanks, 
and continued : “ So we passed a sleepless, dreadful night, 
and a worse day followed. For the command was passed 
from house to house that every living soul in Disentis, 
young and old, sick and well, must leave the place and 
march out with goods and chattels into the fields. Disen- 
tis was to be destroyed by fire, even the beautiful church. 
The soldiers according to their habit, had broken open 
all the gates and doors of the convent, ferreted through 
every cell and hole, and, so they say, found, on the right 
hand of the main building, kegs of powder and worse still.” 

“ Don’t speak so wrongfully of the sacred house ! ” said 
TJli Goin ; “ It is true they say a monk invented the dead- 
ly powder, but it would take the devil to find anything 
worse there. So speak, what was it ? ” 

“ Ah ! what was it ? ” answered the narrator : “ it 
was the torn, riddled, blood-stained uniforms of captain 
Salomon’s company, which had been preserved in the room 
near the entrance. You should have heard the terrible 
uproar among the frantic soldiers ; how they screamed 
for revenge for their murdered comrades, carried their 
clothes aloft on the ends of their bayonets, and showed 
them to their officers. The din was frightful, so was the 
cursing of these furious madmen. The drums began to 
beat right and left, the groans, screams and cries of the 
innocent children, women and men resounded on all sides 
as they fled from their dwellings into the open fields. 
Some fell fainting on the wet grass, others knelt and 
prayed, others behaved like lunatics. It was a sight that 
won’t be beaten at the day of judgment. In the midst of 
all this uproar and confusion a thundering report was 
heard, which deafened us, and a black smoke rose high in 
the air, through which played dark-red tongues of fire. 
The fire shot up as though the earth were spitting it out ; 
and fire dropped from the sky above the black cloud of 
smoke. The convent was half blown up, the fire seized 


THE BUBWIHG OF DISENTI8. 


239 


the rest, the flames mounted into the towers and even 
melted the bells. Sparks came in showers from the win- 
dows, and red streams of fire issue 1 from the roofs of the 
houses and stables. The agony of men and beasts was 
heard in cries and whimi ering far away in the mountains 
as the buildings one by one fell in, and shot upon shot was 
fired. Higher up the valley, too, great columns of smoke 
could be seen, and cattle-stalls in flames. So far so good. 
Then I thought to myself — ” 

“ Zounds ! ” cried Uli : “ Stop your ‘ so far so good,’ 
don’t come here praising the arch-devil and his doings. 
Or has the heat of the fire baked your poor brains too?” 

“I thought to myself,” continued Cajacos in his woe- 
stricken tone, “ the beautiful church and the innocent 
huts have done no wwong, and are being reduced to dust 
and ashes, so it will be our turn next. They are keeping 
us until night, so that the sun may not be a witness to our 
death-struggles. And when night came on, I stole through 
the sentry-line and fled into the mountains. I’ve no 
doubt there’s many a hundred corpse lying in the burning 
ruins.” 

“And the castle of Castelberg?” said Flavian and 
Pauline, at the same time, with a trembling voice. 

“ It was guarded by soldiers, and the destroying angel 
])assed by,” said the survivor : “ Many a poor woman and 
her children found refuge and comfort there. The general 
himself called there and rode up and down with gloomy 
looks. I saw as he galloped past me on his great black 
horse that he turned his eyes towards heaven as though 
asking for pardon. But he has deserved hell. In the 
ranks of the soldiers, too, I saw many who were struck 
with compassion, and gently put a child or two over the 
ring-fence into the castle yard. But stones themselves 
must have felt sympathy at the sight of such grief and 
misery. And who can tell when all this will end. You 
good people of Panix, take whatever you value most to 


240 


THE HOSE OF HISENTIS. 


some place of safety and pray to God and his saints to 
spare you and keep the French from paying you a visit.” 

“ Quite right, Iceli, perfectly right ! ” chimed in Uli ; 
“ Still, don’t let the people of Panix despair ! Field Marshal 
Hotze is still around, and the dance at Luziensteig is far 
from over. We’ll wash the skin of these incendiaries and 
butchers in their own blood yet, for God who has let us 
fall into the ditch will certainly pull us out of it again. 
Isn’t that so, reverend sir? you know better than I do*” 

The reverend gentleman stood there pale and unmanned, 
his eyes fixed like two pieces of glass, and could neither 
administer consolation himself, nor hear the comforting 
speech of the Tavetscher. The women wept. Some of the 
men whispered prayers, others cried. Others, in their fury, 
ground their teeth and clenched their fists. 

One after another they hastened home in order to save 
their property. More soon followed the example, until, at 
last, the whole crowd had dispersed. “ Bring our horses 
out, men ! ” shouted Uli with his powerful voice : “ What 

are you loitering about and staring up into the sky for, like 
the picture in the chapel ? Get on, get on, time waits for 
no man.” 


XLIV. 


IN THE ALPS. 


^HE horses stood ready ; the litter, too, for Pauline’s 



^ sick companion. The latter tottered slowly out of the 
house, supported by the incumbent and the maid, hidden 
in cloak and furs. Her head, which was bent earthwards, 
was bound up with white cloths, over which was a green 
veil, the nose and chin were hidden, and one half-shut eye 
was barely visible. She was carefully lifted into her seat, 
between the poles. She spoke a few w'ords in a hoarse 
voice to her companions, who, not despising Flavian’s assist- 
ance, each mounted a horse. Four sturdy peasants accom- 
panied them, by turns carrying their baggage and the litter, 
or leading the horses. 

Thus, at a steady pace, they ascended the dwarf-grass- 
ed meadows of the mountain-side. At first, a word 
was seldom exchanged. Everyone was still living, in 
thought, amid the frightful occurrences of which they had 
just got the news. But the higher they ascended, and the 
stronger grew the consciousness of personal safety, the 
more their minds seemed to rise superior to misfortune 
W'hich was chiefly brought about by those whom it had 
overtaken, and to be willing to put up with the change of 
thinsrs in this world. Flavian was comforted to know that 
his friend the Benedictine was at least safe from greater dan- 
gers with his benefactress, inside the walls of Castelberg. 
He gradually regained command enough of himself to look 
around, to enjoy once again the Alpine sunshine, and to 
notice how at every step the giant proportions of the colos- 
sal walls of rock and the mountain peaks increased. He 


1 1 


242 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


would, it is true, have preferred, in order to satisfy a little 
curiosity, to have drawn Pauline von Stetten into conver- 
sation. She, however, answered the questions, which he 
now and again politely directed to her, with brief, obliging 
replies. Her silence reminded him that he must imitate it. 

Still less did he dare to address a word to the invalid, 
who, from time to time, seemed to give a sigh wrung from 
her by pain. That did not prevent him from scrutinizing 
her sideways, in order to make out, if possible, under the 
load of wraps, furs, and cloths, both her figure and her age, 
or what kind of a beauty it was which had been destroyed 
by an ailment which would probably evoke as much 
horror as sympathy. Tiie one, and sounder eye, which was 
unbandaged, was but rarely lifted, and then looked expres- 
sionless through the veil. Still the small, delicate hands 
with which the invalid grasped the arms of the chair, could 
belong certainly to no very elderly lady, and seemed, al- 
though encased in open-worked white silk gloves, soft and 
beautifully shaped. At times, too, a breeze would blow the 
border of the long black satin mantle back, and show in 
the finely worked shoes and white stockings, a pair of such 
bewitching little feet, that it was clear the possessor was 
only just on the verge of womanhood. Still, nothing fur- 
ther could be gleaned, and the compassion of the young 
man deepened. 

The party finally came to the frightful Multar, a ci*e- 
vasse in the earth some fifty feet wide, the sides of which are 
perpendicular, and from whose depths can be heard the mo- 
notonous roar of a wild mountain torrent rushing through 
its narrow bed. One behind the other, with the greatest cau- 
tion, the party passed over the slender stone structure 
which bridges the abyss. They went on over the Araschka- 
Alp to the storm-furrowed crags and rocks of the Kaunen- 
berg, in whose shade lay a ruined hut which serves as a 
shelter to the shepherds and their herds, when driven by 
storms from their pasturagc^s, N ei t her herds uor shephercU 


IN THE ALPS. 


243 


were to be seen. Up the rapid acclivities of the mountain, 
the green of the pasturages faded into the grey masses of 
broken rock, and the bare earth deposit, furrowed in^ 
thousand directions by the temporary channels through 
which the melted snow had cut its way : this was the grey 
desert realm of the extreme heights. 

O 

A half an hour later, the last stage of the mountain 
steep had been climbed, and the guides halted to feed and 
rest their horses, and make the various necessary prepara- 
tions for the descent of the northern cone of the mountain. 
Uli Goin and the lively Theresa, who appeared to be on 
easier terms than their betters, set to work vigorously to 
prepare a breakfast of the cold viands which had been 
brought up. A broad block of rock had to serve Pauline 
and Flavian for a table j a similar one, but at a considerable 
distance, served the same purpose for the unfortunate inva- 
lid, who was an object of compassion to the whole party. 
She ate there alone, waited upon exclusively by Pauline 
von Stetten, who had herself to remove some of the cloths 
from her face during the meal, as even her servant turned 
away from her in disgust. 

In the meanwhile, Flavian engaged the Panix men in 
conversation. They were busy preparing a meal for them- 
selves and the horses, for which they had ample time in the 
two-hours’ rest they allowed themselves. Whether it was 
the extreme purity of the atmosphere on these heights, or 
the strange picture of their immediate and distant surround- 
ings, or, perhaps, the delicacies served up by Uli and The- 
resa, after which their stomach might have been craving, 
everything seemed to drive the memory of the horrors of 
the last hours into the background, and to invite the return 
of joyousness. 

They found themselves on an inconsiderable stretch of 
bare, undulating ground, on which the storms of ages had 
left their stern impression. Here and there might be seen 
a little tuft of stunted Alpine grass, between the clefts in 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS, 


244 

the rocks, or on the bare rocks themselves : in another db 
rection, little pools of snow-water, clear as crystal, glitter- 
e#^iii the sun, or masses of ice flashed their transparent 
glory from out the shade. A few steps to the left, the grey 
rugged face of the rocks was broken by several large con- 
tiguous caves. From between the seas of ice, against the 
blue heavens above, the diadems of the Alpine glaciers 
looked down, borne upon the huge mountain masses, as 
upon the broad shoulders of giants. In the dim distance 
below, could be faintly distinguished, through the hazy at- 
mosphere, the land of human habitations. 

Even Uli Goiu seemed moved by tbe magnificent spec- 
tacle. He was, however, startled out of the meditations, 
which he was pursuing with folded arms, by a rough push 
with which the wayward maid honored him. 

“Ha ! ha! missie, not bad !” exclaimed IJli taking her 
round the waist : “Just confess now that you like my 
country here better than you do Vienna. I should ima- 
gine you would — ” 

“ What in the world can you know about it ? ” she an- 
swered : “ Who told you I was from Vienna ? You are 

just mistaken, then, I belong to Brünn, and have scarcely 
been a year inVienna.” 

“But I thought,” said IJli, drawing her a little closer, 
“ that you would soon forget Brünn and Vienna in our beau- 
tiful mountains if you — ” 

“ The only thing wanted to make me perfectly wretched ! 
Beautiful mountains! Just so! They are as ugly as — 
yourself, Uli. It is true, at a distance you look quite nice, 
like confectionery with icing. But as near as you are now, 
the Lord comfort me! one would almost turn into stone 
and ice to look at you. Ah ! if I was only back in dear, old 
Vienna.” 

“ With your sweetheart at home,” added Uli with a 
sarcastic sigh : “ Yes yes. Miss Theresa, when the girls 

have got one, they don’t care for him, and when they havenH, 


IN THE ALPS. 245 

they’re always on the lookout for one. I’ll bet you’ll be 
fond enough of me when you are gone.” 

“Just so!” she replied, smiling disdainfully: “^e 
farther you are away from me the better I shall like you, 
that is quite certain. But as you have been in Vienna, 
you will admit that St. Stephen’s church is somewhat finer 
than that great lump of a mountain, and the Prater, or the 
parade-ground more interesting than this wilderness of 
washed-out hills.” 

“ I maintain, on the contrary,” said the Tavetscher 
good humoredly ; “ the finest parade-ground is where 
Theresa parades her roguish eyes.” 

“ Get along, you simpleton, and learn how to turn a 
compliment better than that!” answered Theresa, with a 
countenance not half^^ harsh as her speech. 

“It is true I wasn’t born with a silver sjDOon in my 
mouth,” continued Uli: “so I should like to go to school 
to Miss Theresa Liebhold. I might then get to be what I 
ought to have been long ago, and that is just a nice hus- 
band. And I will begin the lesson as soon as you like, 
the sooner the better ; if needs be, here on the spot, where 
■we are nearer heaven than in the church. It isn’t every 
day that* you can catch the time and opportunity by the 
sleeve. So out with it, heart to heart, ring to ring ! ” 

“For shame, Mr. Uli! Let me go!” she cried, in an 
undertone, with a little dash of anger in her voice, break- 
ing away from him. “When you speak to a person like 
me, don’t scream like a jay, you stupid fellow! don’t you 
see how the peasants above there are looking at us. Get 
about your business with your declarations of love ! That 
is hash that you have already served up to a dozen girls! ” 
She gave him a downright good slap, which he took with 
as much good nature as though it had been the tenderest 
caress. 

By this time Flavian and Pauline had finished their 
rustic meal, which had been accompanied by a bottle of 


246 


TUE MOSE OF DISEN TIS. 


Bordeaux from the Abbey cellars. Both anxious for an 
i^erview where they would be safe from listeners, and to 
confer upon sundry matters, they started together for a 
little walk. 

Chatting about indifferent matters, they reached the 
caves, then turned to the right, towards a high waterfall 
of great volume which shot out into a splendid bow from 
the Hansstock glacier. Finally Pauline summoned up 
courage and said : “ Ladies, you are aware, are sometimes 

inquisitive. In the vicarage at Panix, I accidentally saw in 
your hand a beautiful purse. Would you allow me once 
more to look at the fine embroidery ? ” 

The rifle captain drew it slowly forth, not wi-thout a 
fluttering at his heart. He knew that the conversation 
must now take the precise directio®le had so much longed 
to give it. A^d still, when he thought of the fickle, faith- 
less giver of the purse, his wounded, manly pride again 
took full possession of him. He was only anxious to know 
how, after such contemptuous behavior, it would be possi- 
ble fully to exonerate her. 

After the lady had thoroughly examined both the 
fabric and the embroidery, or perhaps better, had con- 
sidered how to overcome her awkwardness, and continue 
this conversation, she handed him the purse back, and 
said: “ I know this work — this so-called Hose of Disentis. 
May I presume a little, and ask how — ” Here her voice 
failed. Then suddenly drawing up, and taking his hand 
in both hers, as though to prevent his escai)e, she spoke 
with entreating look and anxious tone: “Elfrida von 
jMarmels, of Wenna, is my bosom friend. Could you not 
give me your confidence for a moment? I may appear a 
little too inquisitive to you perhaps. It is barely twenty- 
four hours since we first saw each other, but — Be candid 
with me. I should like to speak open-heartedly with you. 
Only tell me one thing, — I know you got that keepsake 


IN THE ALPS, 247 

from Elfrida. You lost it, or gave it away. When and 
how did you get it back again ? ” 

Flavian looked at his insinuating interrogator with eyes 
ill which there was as much the expression of newly-awak- 
ened grief as of the desire to learn more. “ Six months 
ago, I bought the purse, in an inn, from my present ser- 
vant, Uli Goin. Your friend probably gave it to some 
one, perhaps to a simple servant. Thus the tender keep- 
sake went from hand to hand, did the office of a love-pledge 
everywhere, until I quite unexpectedly came upon it again.” 

“You are mistaken, sir! Elfrida never gave that purse 
to any one but yourself. I beseech you to tell the truth ! 
At the present moment, there is more depending on this 
matter, as far as I am concerned, than you could believe. 
Or — perhaps you w^^d rather not. If you are afraid, I 
will ask no more que^nons.” 

“ I afraid 1 ” he said, repeating the word as though 
half-offended, while he proudly drew himself up : “ Why 
afraid ? ” 

“ You had — Mr. Prev’ost, you knew perhaps in Vienna, 
a person, a certain — No ! to whom I pray you, in Vienna 
did you give this purse after you left the house of the 
Countess of Grieneiiburg ? ” 

“ I think. Miss, your friend has not confided everything 
to you, but, in order to cloak her fickleness, she has treat- 
ed you to a fiction. Otherwise what can you mean by 
your question about a “ certain ” person whom you do not 
mention ? I am perfectly ready to answer ojienly anything 
you choose to ask. I will. Your friend Avas once mine ; 
no ! I acknowledge it, she was my first love. She demeaned 
herself unworthily ; she played a base game with an honor- 
able heart, Avhich she had won by her simulated innocence. 
She broke her pledge as lightly as she gave it. I was a 
credulous fool and she a — ” 

“ Quiet ! my dear captain, don’t upbraid her any more.” 

“ Pardon me, Miss. You have laid your finger on a 


2-IS the rose of DISENTIS. 

wound which bleeds long after it is inflicted. How can I 
help it ? If you only knew all. How angelic she could 
appear ! No ! she did not play the hypocrite, but, in my 
good nature, I believed a wayward, fickle, thoughtless 
child. She turned me ofi* with superlative indifierence. 
The separation was for life! I wanted to have nothing 
more to do with her : I sent her everything I had which 
had ever belonged to her, and the very last thing, the 
purse, I sent her by the Marquis Malariva. The breach will 
never be closed again ! ” 

“ By Malariva ! ” exclaimed Pauline aloud, letting Fla- 
vian’s hand fall. In her movement and looks, however, 
there was more of surprise and satisfaction than of fear ; 
“ By him? By him personally ? That is what she in fact 
said, — for certainly she was not Iving — Answer me this 
one more question : You periia|^fcvnew in Vienna a cer- 
tain Nancy, or Nanny Schröter? A few years ago they 
say she was really pretty. You perhaps only knew the girl 
just as people do who once accidentally — ” 

“ No : Miss ! I heard her name, which was quite strange 
to me, for the first time, from the mouth of my servant. 
And, pray, what of this person ? ” 

“It was not Malariva, but this Nanny Schröter herself 
who brought the purse back to the unhappy Elfrida von 
Marinels.” 

“ Even so. That is after all only an mcidental circum- 
stance. Why do you call your friend unhappy ? ” 

“Because, Mr. Prevost, she is so, through what you call 
an incidental circumstance, — now^, what I early suspected ; 
what Elfrida could not believe ; — wdiat came to light sub- 
sequently, but too late, is now divested of the very last 
shade of doubt — this incidental circumstance, this miserable, 
unheard-of villainy has shorn Elfrida’s springtide of every 
prospective happiness and hastened the death of the Count- 
ess of Grienenburg.” 

“ I heard of her death, a few days ago, from Malariva. 


m THE ALPS. 


249 


But what has become of the orphan Elfricla von Mar- 
mels ? ” 

“Come, Mr. Prevost. Our people will call us, I expect, 
w’hen it is time to start. Let us look out for a place where 
we can rest ourselves. I wih p^iYe you her sad history in a 
few words. It is partly the history of your own fate.” 
n* 


XLV. 

THE STORY AT THE WATERFAL'Ij, 


HE led her companion to a block of stone which could 



afford them both a seat. Before them, the broad cas- 
cade leaped with gigantic bound over the furrowed and 
magnificent wall of rock with a monotonous roar. Catch- 
ing the silver-grey tint of the mica rock, it looked like an 
enormous, shining door of molten platina. 

The captain seated himself, wrought up to the highest 
pitch of expectation, near Pauline. His eyes were riveted 
upon the expressive countenance of the lady, as though he 
would gather her thoughts from it, before they could be 
shaped into words. 

“ To begin, Mr. Prevost,” said Pauline von Stetten : - 
“ you must learn that I have known Elfrida from her child- 
hood. She lost her father early in life; a few years later, 
her mother, whose second husband was the Count von 
Grienenburg. She was then a complete orphan. She de- 
pended on me with the most childlike tenderness. This 
relation between us continued, or, rather, became more in- 
timate when the Count married a second time. You knew 
the Countess von Grienenburg. I have nothing more to 
say of her. At the time of which I speak we were neigh- 
bors. Elfrida passed most of her time with me, on my little 
estate near the city of Brünn. The property of her step- 
father and step-mother joined mine. After the death of her 
step-father, she was taken by her mother to Vienna. At 
times she was allowed to visit me. During the remainder 
of the time we kept up a Constant correspondence. She 
had no secrets from me : I none from her. I thus learned 


THE STORY AT THE WATERFALL. 


251 


of Malariva’s suit for her hand, then the child’s budding 
fondness for } ourself, Mri Prevost. I thought it my duty 
to warn her. The good child did not as yet understand 
why she should be warned. The inexperienced girl did 
not know what danger meant. But her innocent liking for 
her young friend flamed up into a passion. Yes, you were 
loved with all the ecstatic fire of a first and last love ; with 
a love that defied the most terrible shocks ; with a resolute- 
ness and power which death alone can conquer. You know 
Elfrida’s determined character.” 

A bitter smile overspread Flavian’s features, and he 
quietly muttered: “Perfectly. One minute this, the next 
that, always determined.” 

“Hear me out ! Do not condemn too hastily. You also 
knew Malariva, who was a distant relative of the Countess. 
With the incredible power of duplicity, which the insinuat- 
ing, treacherous Italian had at command, he everywhere 
praised you, while at the same time he envied the Count- 
ess’ great trust in you, and was jealous of Elfrida’s par- 
tiality for you. When his hatred had reached its height, 
and he learned that you were connected with the house of 
Schauenstein through your sister, and belonged to the old 
nobility, he promised to spare neither time, trouble nor 
money to procure for you a position in the imperial service 
worthy of your talents. He certainly had a wide circle of 
influential friends in high places whom he could command. 
Elfrida and the Countess were all gratitude. It was deter- 
mined, on a given day, to surprise you with some appoint- 
ment, I forget what. Elfrida and the Countess were bewil- 
dered with joy : and offered to make any possible sacrifice 
of money. You see, Mr. Prevost, how circumstantially 
I am acquainted with everything that concerned you, and 
was so even before I had the honor of knowing you per- 
sonally.” 

“ As a fact. Miss von Stetten,” answered Flavian, on 
whose features scorn and anger played as he reviewed the 


THE ROSE OF JJIEEXTIS. 


2:>2 

past ; “ As a fact, I learn more from you than I knew my- 
self.” 

“Things soon changed, however,” continued Pauline; 
“ one evening the Marquis called upon the ladies, gloomy, 
morose, absent : muttered curses upon the scandal-monger- 
ing of the Viennese, and excited the curiosity of the ladies 
to the highest pitch. They repeatedly begged him to say 
what was torturing him. At last, as though half yielding 
to compulsion, he consented, and told them of the miserable 
slanders which were in circulation concerning you.” 

Prevost shrugged his shoulders, and said ; “ which 
the villain had himself originated. I know ! And the two 
ladies believed the wretch at once upon his word.” 

“ No, it was too dreadful, too incredble ! ‘ Imagine,’ 
he said ‘ that he had been received by a person of great 
consideration at court, to whom he had addressed himself 
ill your interest, with the greatest possible coldness. This 
person curtly put an end to all future efforts, informing 
him that from the accounts he had received, the young 
Bündner had long been a person suspected by the police ; 
that he was in seci’et communication with Frenchmen com- 
promised in demagogical plots ; that he was, to boot, im- 
moral, had seduced the young daughter of one of the citi- 
zens, and was still keeping up a dishonorable connection 
with her, etc.: that this distinguished person finally ex- 
pressed himself in terms of dissatisfaction with the Count- 
ess, for rendering her house suspected, by harboring an 
adventurer of that description, and was still severer on the 
Marquis Malariva, for having dared to recommend a man 
for the imperial service, whose next journey would be to 
prison or across the frontier.’ ” 

“ I know, I know ! Miss,” said Flavian hoarsely, at 
these words ; “ But why was I not informed of this ? Why 
was I not listened to ? ” 

“ They did not want to offend you, to drive you to any 
rash measures. You may imagine, Mr. Prevost, with what 


THE STORY AT THE WATERFALL. 953 

indignation Elfrida and her step-mother listened to this. 
But the Marquis himself was still more indignant than 
they. The lie was too barefaced, too clear, he said. He 
considered it his duty to save the honor and good name 
of an innocent man. This was a matter in which his own 
honor was at stake, and he must vindicate himself at all costs. 
It must be the villainy of some third party, some mistake, 
or a confusion of names. He would get an explanation 
from the police in person ; would himself go to the house 
of the woman mentioned. Until then it was resolved to 
say nothing at all to you about the matter.” 

“ Very clever stupidity ! ” said Flavian : “ If they had 
only heard me ! — And then ? ” 

“ The next day, the Marquis came again, but with a 
countenance boding misfortune. He was beside himself; 
for a long time could not find words to disclose the terrible 
reality. In the police office they had shown him insurrec- 
tionary songs in Mr. Prevost’s own handwriting, and laid 
before him the prods verhol of many witnesses who con- 
firmed the charges made. He had learned, too, the name 
of the young woman, and had immediately sought her in 
the Leopoldstadt. She was a young person, named Nanny 
Schröter, daughter of a widow whose husband had been a 
tailor. After a great many representations, requests, and, 
finally, threats, she confessed her guilt to the Marquis, but 
also that she had been promised marriage by Mr. Prevost. 
The Countess listened to Malariva’s account in dumb hor- 
ror. Elfrida, on the contrary, walked up to the Marquis 
purple with anger, and — ” 

“ Elfrida ? Really ? Could she indeed have done so ? ” 
muttered the rifle captain with an incredulous smile. 

“ She told him he was a dishonorable liar, whose ill-con- 
cealed hatred towards the friend of their house she had long 
ago detected. The Marquis shrugged his shoulders com- 
passionately, professed his readiness to substantiate what 
he said ; that after all he had only done what he had in 


25i 


TEE ROSE OF DISEETIS. 


order to protect the untarnished name of the Countess 
against possible slanders. He then handed the Countess, 
stupefied with grief and dismay, a note. It contained very 
few lines from one of the state officials well known to the 
Countess, advising her, in order to avoid unpleasant conse- 
quences to get the student from Graubünden out of her house 
as soon as possible.” 

“ Aha ! ” said Flavian, with knitted brow ; ‘‘ it is now 
becoming clearer how the matter stood.” 

“ Dear Mr. Prevost, the note, then your arrest, must at 
any rate, have added to their fears. The Countess, both by 
rank and connections, stood in such relations, that the dis- 
favor of the ministry or of the court could not possibly be a 
matter of indifierence to her.” 

“ Exactly, Miss ! In the so-called higher circles, people 
are obliged to look to things which are not worth a strip 
of paper, and to which, by reason of their rank, they must 
sacrifice happiness, virtue, and the noblest feelings of the 
human heart. The “ bo7i ton ” sometimes demands this. Is 
not that the case ? and the little story of the young woman 
was of course accepted, without refiection, as good 
money ? ” 

“ Not so blindly as you imagine. Just listen ! At the 
beginning, it is true, they had pretty well lost their head. 
Still, Elfrida was the first to regain something like reason- 
able self-control : believed it not impossible that the suspi- 
cions of the police had been aroused by some incautious ex- 
pressions of opinion on your part touching the political sit- 
uation : but, with regard to the charges against your mor- 
al character, she could and would not believe a syllable of 
them. The Countess began to agree with her. Malariva 
became puzzled. The Marquis was obliged to arrange an 
interview. The young woman would not hear of it, so he 
said, for several days. He finally succeeded in getting the 
daughter of the tailor to consent, and brought her with 
him. She admitted her guilt and folly with tears, but still 


THE sroitr at the wa^terfale 


255 


more did she cry about your banishment from the Austrian 
Empire, as she feared the consequences of her folly. The 
Countess upon hearing this confession, nearly swooned. 
Elfrida on fire with anger, told the sobbing girl that she 
was a shameless, bold liar, who thought she could accuse 
an absent man of honor of being the cause of her shame.” 

“ Did she think so much of me eve7i then in her heart 
of hearts ? ” said Flavian with a certain air of satisfaction : 
“ did they not turn the wretch out of doors ?” 

“No! The girl became furious at these reproaches; 
maintained the truth of her words ; spoke of letters, writ- 
ten promises, presents from her banished lover, but had 
nothing to show for it ; finally, she pulled out the purse 
and held it under Elfrida’s eyes. Elfrida took it, examined 
it long and silently, recognized the keepsake she had given 
you, and dashed it like a poisonous adder, full of terror, 
right into the girl’s face. She gave a wild scream and fell 
senseless to the ground.” 

Here Prevost sprang up from his seat and thundered 
out: “The hellish plot! That was Malariva’s own mis- 
tress ! The scoundrel had prompted the vile creature for 
the occasion ! ” 

“ Calm yourself, captain,” said Pauline, drawing him 
dov/n again by her side : Listen to the close of this misera- 
ble affair. Elfrida lay for several weeks in a fever. The 
poor countess became even more dangerously sick, and 
never recovered; she went joyless to the grave. I hastened 
from Brünn to Vienna. Elfrida recovered, by dint of care- 
ful nursing; but the former flow of her spirits never re- 
turned. Last summer we accompanied the Countess to 
the Bohemian baths. There the unhappy lady was rescued 
from her wretchedness by a peaceful death. On her death- 
bed, she still wdshed for the marriage of her step-daugliter 
to the Marquis. Her wish was not fulfilled. Elfrida 
thought of her first love with agony and a bleeding heart, 


256 


TUE ROSE OF UISEF TI8. 


but still faithfully cherished it in her breast. She deter- 
mined to spend the remainder of her days in a convent.” 

“ What ? ” said Flavian astounded : “ Did she go into 

a convent ? ” 

“ She has not yet gone. I prevented her. But we 
both lived in Vienna more of a convent life, than if we 
had been in one. The Marquis had joined the army in the 
Tyrol. We seldom went to a concert, the theatre, or made 
calls, but spent much more time in visiting asylums for 
the sick and poor. One morning, it was a few days after 
New Year’s day, as we were walking among the beds in the 
women’s hospital, comforting the poor occupants. Miss 
von Marmels was called in a feeble voice. Imagine Elfri- 
da’s terror ! There lay Nanny Schröter, the victim of her 
excesses and vices, unrecognizable, awaiting the termina- 
tion of her sufferings. We did not know her until she 
herself told us her name. She besought mercy and forgive- 
ness from Elfrida, and stated how dreadfully she had sin- 
ned against her. She told us how she had been persuaded 
by the Marquis Malariva to the thoughtless act of which 
she now repented, when she learned the dreadful effect of 
her freak upon the two ladies. She said she had never seen 
or been acquainted with any Mr. Prevost. The purse was 
the property of the Marquis. Poor Elfrida, upon hearing 
this unexpected confession, sank in convulsions upon a 
chair. A doctor came to her assistance. She burst into a 
flood of tears and, in despair, accused herself of the most 
senseless want of mercy to an innocent man.” 

“ No ! No ! ” said Flavian, deeply moved : “ She did 
herself injustice. Even the most quick-witted might have 
been equally deceived by such devilish trickery.” 

And yet,” continued Pauline von Stetten, “ and yet, 
when the first outburst had subsided, fresh doubts arose in 
her mind as to whether the abandoned creature had told 
the whole truth. How could she have come into possession 
of the purse without knowing Mr. Prevost. Perhaps she 


TUE STOBT AT THE WATERFALL. 


25T 


had heard suhseqiientjy of the relation in which he stood 
to Elfrida von Marmels. Enough. I again went to the 
hospital in order to get a thoroughly satisfactory account 
from the sick woman. She was a corpse ! Had we but 
known the^i where you were, I should have written and 
asked you the very question which I put to you about half 
an hour ago. However, we knew your sister’s address. I 
wrote to ask whether you were still alive, and where you 
resided. My letter remained unanswered.” 

“ Neither did my sister ever mention a single word of 
it to me ! ” said Flavian, uneasily. 

“We supposed, however, that you would be in Grau- 
bünden, where I still have a dear Iriend of my youth,” 
continued Pauline, with downcast eyes; “you know him 
well. Your friend the Benedictine at that time corre- 
sponded with me, and expressed a wish that we might 
once again see each other on earth, and I — ah ! poor 
Elfrida was pining away in eternal anguish. Such conso- 
lation as I could otfer and the medicine prescribed for her, 
were of no more use. She prepared me for her speedy 
death.” 

I “ For God’s sake ! she is not dead,” exclaimed the 
young man deadly pale, seizing Pauline’s hands. 

She shook her head, and said : “ Be calm, the unhappy 
girl is still alive. But I could no longer endure to see her 
suffering and slowly fading away. I determined upon a coitH, 
upon a journey to Graubünden. The imperial troops at 
that time held the country, and we were at peace -with 
France. And then, to fulfil the last wish of the friend of 
mv youth. Enough ! Elfrida remained behind in Vienna, 
but her own and my dear, true friend, Clara, accompanied 
me. She hoped to mitigate her disease by change of air, 
movement, and the distractions of a journey. I dared not 
say no. We came, recommended to a certain Madam 
von Salis, without accident as far as Chur, but without 
being able to stay. Two days after, the country was in- 


258 


THE ROSE OF RISEN T18. 


vaded by the French. We flew for safety to Disentis, and 
found ourselves much worse off*. Now, Mr. Prevost, you 
know the rest. Your friend, the Benedictine, introduced 
me to the good Madam von Castelberg. But, on account 
of the relapse of my dear Clara, we should have had to stay 
in Trons, how could I have trespassed longer on Madam 
von Castelberg, with whom I already — ” 

The narrative was here broken short by the stentorian 
tones of Uli Coin’s voice : “ Holla ! Ho ! Holla he ! ” He 
and the guides were inipatiently waving cloths to show 
that the time had come to resume the journey. 

“More later!” said Pauline von Stetten, rising and 
taking the captain’s arm in order to obey the callers. 

“But you surely have later news from Elfrida?” asked 
Flavian, brushing a tear from his eye. 

“ She is better, she is living on the bright hopes I gave 
her,” answered Elfrida’s friend, and the tears sparkled in 
her eyes as she caught sight of the young man’s emotion. 


XLVL 


THROUGH THE SERNFTHAL. 


S soon as they both reached the party, the journey 



was again resumed. Pauline walked on foot up the 
last stretch to the highest point, conversing with her sick 
companion. Meanwhile, Flavian put the loquacious Tav- 
etscher through a severe cross-examination touching the 
Viennese Nanny. He learned however very little of any- 
thing new. 

“ Nanny,” said her former admirer, “ may certainly have 
been Nancy Schröter. Women change their clothes, faces * 
and names, and remain what they are, arch-comedians. 
The little witch deceived a dozen others besides me and 
the Marquis. She could hang her conscience on a nail 
just as easily as her corset, if it was too tight for her. 
She sobbed, it is true, like a penitent Magdalen, when she 
gave me the purse as a keepsake on parting: ‘Take it,’ 
she said, ‘ it reminds me of no good ’ — but I’ll bet she was 
laughing and ogling as soon as my back was turned.” 

The party again halted. For, in front of the little car- 
avan, right and left, the mountain sloped somewliat pre- 
cipitously towards an abyss bounded, as well as over- 
shadowed, by enormous rocks; the ground was hidden 
under deep, hard snow. The men put on their crampons, 
Clara’s litter was turned into a sleigh. They were in 
presence of the Zatzer precipice. 

“ Coin ! Coin ! Coin ! ” cried Theresa from her horse ; 
trembling for her young life : “Come and help me ! I will 
not go any farther and get my neck broken.” 

As a matter of fact, the descent through this frightful 


260 


THE ROSE OF DI8ENTI8. 


cleft in the mountains was not unattended with danger at 
this time of the year. Both ladies trembled no less than 
their maid. The guides held their horses and sleigh back, 
went forward with the greatest caution and encouraged 
the party. Their progress was slow over the snow down 
into the deep hollow, where the masses of rock opened out 
into a broader chasm, with walls of limestone and mica. 
On the left, a torrent, which roared beneath the snow and 
ice-arch over which the travelers were picking their way 
in the deepest silence, dashed out of a dismal cleft. The 
gallant Uli immediately went to the terrified maid, and 
Flavian accompanied in turns Pauline von Stetten and her 
silent friend. He even ventured to speak to the latter. 
“While I sympathize with you, Madam,” he said, “I can- 
not help admiring the unusual courage which allows you 
to venture upon so tedious a journey, especially in your 
present condition.” 

She laid her hand upon her breast, and whispered, in a 
lioarse voice, a few words, which he did not catch. 

“Take courage,” he said compassionately ; he would 
have been glad to learn something from her : “We shall 
soon be past the dangerous part. If you will allow me tho 
honor, I will remain by your side, like a faithful guard, 
until we have passed it.” 

She nodded her head in token of thanks, and pointed 
with her hand to a stunted evergreen shrub which was 
peeping out of the snow, near the rocks, at the foot of tlie 
lofty Rinkenkopf. They were rhododendrons with rose- 
colored leaves. Flavian broke off a sprig, and handed it to 
her with the words : “ They are not yet in bloom.” 

“ But soon ! soon! The leaves live, the leaves will al- . 
ways keep green,” she softly whispered to him, taking the 
sprig from him, and, at the same time, holding his hand 
and gently pressing it with her little, delicate fingers. 
He would have repaid any one else by kissing her hand, 
but disgust and horror seized him at the idea of her incur- 


THROUGH THE SERNFTHAL. 


26 L 

able disease. Still, tlie friendly, unexpected pressure of her 
fingers thrilled through his whole being. He now spoke 
frequently to her. But instead of answering him, she point- 
e l to her throat and let her head droop with an exj)ression 
of sorrow. 

The boundary of the snow-field was now reached, where 
to the right and left, along the mountain range, the water- 
ialls played in the wind like fabrics of delicate silver 
thread. They soon reached a precipice near which, at an 
immeasurable distance below, they saw, in sweet repose, 
a broad Alpine landscape. The eye could hardly fathom 
the dazzling abyss over which ravens, looking like flies, 
circled in the air, and at the bottom of which a few Alpine 
huts lay on the green meadow's looking the size of mole- 
hills. When, however, they had reached this spot beneath 
the beautiful Wichleralp, joyous shouting and lively con- 
versation were again the order of the day. Uli Goin awoke 
the echoes wdth his high throat-notes : Flavian gathered 
flowers for the ladies, and Pauline von Stetten dismounted 
in order to join him. For she had still many questions to 
ask him, and he not less to ask her. 

She recounted to him how, in company with Madam 
von Castelberg, the lady of the house, she had visited him 
and seen him, in order to gratify a little very pardonable 
curiosity ; that he lay there unconscious, and that when 
Madam von Castelberg was called away, she had stood alone 
before his bed, to offer him a blooming hyacinth which 
she took from her breast ; that he dozed off without deign- 
ing to notice her. 

“ What ? You, Miss ?” he cried, annoyed at being finally 
obliged to recognize the vision in the fever as the play of 
the imagination : “ I thought I saw Elfrida with the Rose 
of Disentis in her hand.” 

“ So it is always and everywhere Elfrida ? ” smiled Pau- 
line, a little petulantly : “ It is a good thing Elfrida 
does not know how easily you take every other young lady 


262 


THE ROSE OF DISEHTI8. 


for her, otherwise the mniclen’s old suspicion would receive 
an ugly kind of confirmation.” 

“ Suspicion,” he replied, “ have I ever deserved such ? ” 

“ Yes, sir ! she replied, looking roguishly at him : “ A 

thorn like that in the heart is very hard to get out again. 
We women do not wdllingly tolerate other gods by our 
side, let alone goddesses.” 

Flavian shook his head gloomily, and murmured : “ Sus- 
picion ! I ! She did not know me. She was a light-hearted 
girl, and I wms no Count or Baron, or great man.” 

“ No, no ! my dear friend,” said Pauline : “ do not 
judge my friend so harshly. I never saw a girl with less 
prejudice and a stronger mind. Do you know ^vhat tliat 
child firmly and proudly answered her step-mother w^hen 
spoken to about a marriage suitable to her station ? 
She said ; “ if I were a queen I would marry a beggar if I 
loved him ; and if I were a beggar I would at any rate re- 
main queen of my own interior. I will allow myself to be 
bartered away by no one to whomsoever it may be, were 
he even the ruler of the world ! Better in a convent, better 
in the grave than in an imperial palace with a crushed will 
and a broken heart ! ” 

“ I know it. Miss, I know, she once spoke in those terms ; 
and then — but I was a visionary at that lime ; I overlooked, 
like herself, difference of rank, wealth and religion. I am 
cured. My wild, boyish dreams are gone forever ! I know 
now wdiat life means, and am satisfied with little. Once I 
was a dreaming world-reformer, and that, too, I am no 
longer.” 

‘‘You were never that, dear captain, do not be unjust 
to yourself. Just as Elfrida found you, so I have found 
you ; perhaps a shade too enthusiastic for what is good, a 
little too hard upon what is bad.” 

“ You characterize tenderly. Miss, what usually gets 
harder names. I was a thoughtless inexperienced boy, anx- 
ious to teach the world according to my ideal, and my 


TnnOTJQB. THE SEREFTEAL. 


263 


sclioolboy notions. But what I was, I was from the bottom 
of my heart, genuinely and unsuspectingly; I was no 
phrase-maker, with my mouth full of the holy and noble, 
and my heart empty, such as those one hears to-day bawling 
in every coffee-house and newspaper ; who give a decisive 
opinion with their crude wisdom upon everything ; who 
would regulate things according to their ideas, and not 
mould tJieir ideas to things as they exist, and, unfortunately, 
want to play a part with their one hobby, to become cele- 
brated until they run their horns against the solid bulwarks 
of social order, which they take for a mere shadow, and 
then become the antipodes of themselves, political weather- 
cocks, the parasites of princes, zealous church-goers, as 
wrong-headed as passees coquettes, whom no one will 
notice, and who then take to a begging sisterhood.” 

Pauline looked with astonishment right into her neigh- 
bor’s eyes, smiled good-naturedly and said : “ Beautiful ! 

delightful ! But it sounds like an answer to reproaches 
which no one is making. Why this?” 

“In order. Miss, that you may write to your friend, 
and tell her that she would no longer have found me the 
same as she knew me in Vienna, but prepared to acknowl- 
edge the chasm between myself and Elfrida.” 

“Good ! Mr. Prevost, I will write to her, that you are no 
longer a world-reformer, but still a bit of an enthusiast.” 

“You are mistaken, my dear friend ! I feel too subdued 
to be either the one or the other. I have aged twenty 
years in the two which have elapsed since I left Vienna. 
Believe me ! And I have just come from a school in which 
I have learned, in the space of eight weeks, more than I 
learned in the previous eight years from my books. I will 
now become again a peasant in some quarter or other of 
the earth. On that I am resolved. In order not to be de- 
voured by beasts one must either put on their skin, or lly, 
or — ” 

The conversation was here interrupted by the cry of 


264 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS, 


the guides. The path became more precipitous. The lady 
had to remount. Pauline obeyed, and they wended their 
way between the mountains, which to the right and 
left seemed constantly to increase in height towards tiie 
mountain village of Elm, the highest in the Sernf valley. 

Then our astounded travellers stood before a picture of 
mountain grandeur which stretched away to the eastern 
horizon, such as the god of sleep himself could hardly 
conjure up before the mind’s-eye of the dreamer. Between 
the gigantic pillars and pyramids of the lofty Fallzueber 
and Tschingel, a broad, snow-white desert; and above the 
dazzling glacier-sea, rises a long, magnificent wall of rock 
like the work of Cyclops or Titan ; in the midst of this 
colossal, natural masonry, as though formed by the hand of 
man, there is a circular opening through which was pour- 
ing, in all its brilliant splendor, the glory of the Alpine 
kingdom, a cloudless blue sky. It was that wonderful open- 
ing called Martin’s Hole, in which, during spring and 
autumn, the sphere of the morning sun, as though framed 
in rock, shows itself for a few moments to the inhabitants 
of the Alpine highlands. 

But over and behind the dark bastion, rose, in strange 
forms, the needles, cones and glaciers of the Alpine peaks, 
eight and nine thousand feet high, like towers behind the 
walls of a city peopled by giants. 

In vain did the ladies petition for a little time to enjoy 
the great panorama. The men of Panix, quite indiflfercnt 
to it, reminded them unmercifully of the length and rug- 
gedness of the road down the Sernf valley, and never 
halted until, after some hours’ walking, they had reached 
the end of it. The eyes of the weary travellers then be- 
held, stretching before them, the broad open valley of 
the Glarner country in all its peculiar beauty and majesty. 
The twilight was already closing in ; only the gold-red 
glaciers of the peaks smiled their friendly farewell to the 
setting sun. 


XLVIL 


THE VOICE FROM HEAVEN. 



S soon as they had come upon the narrow plain which 


is traversed by the beautiful waters of the Lintli, 
with the ornamental village of Eunenda at no great dis- 
tance, and, behind it, the old church tower of the chief 
town Glarus, between the green spurs and declivities of the 
Schilt, the Frohnalp, and the lofty Glärnisch, Pauline von 
Stetten dismounted from her uncomfortable seat. She hast- 
ened to the litter of the silent Clara, anxious about the 
state of her suffering friend. Then, finding her, contrary 
to all expectation, in good spirits amidst her wraps and 
pillows, she turned to the rifle captain. 

She took his arm and said : “ I prefer, in the cool of 
the evening, to do the last short stretch on foot. Clara is 
a good child, and as cheerful as if she were the healthiest 
of the party. Come, I feel in quite a heavenly humor, and 
so light-hearted now that I am again among the stately 
habitations of men, flower-gardens, blossoming fruit-trees, 
and the vivifying stir and bustle of a civilized woikl. I 
almost feel as though I were awaking from a dream full of 
ghostly illusions. Well, if only for the sake of its oddness, 
it is well worth the trouble to have seen these uplands. 
But there, under the fearful grandeur of the bare peaks, 
near the pale glacier-mantles, over which eternal death 
hovers, in the gloomy pine forests, in which the mountains 
are wrapped as though in a dark mourning garb, one feels 
totally annihilated. A singular land, this Switzerland of 
yours ! Terror and enjoyment, strength and softness, 
destruction and peace, all contiguous and intermingled ; a 


12 


2C6 


THE BOSE OF DISENTI3. 


fantastic something of mother nature without its like in 
the world.” 

“You are in a charming mood, Miss ; really poetical 
and still true to nature ! Only add to your picture the 
men who live here and their division into all kinds of little 
communities and states, with their antiquated, marvellous 
forms, which have now, it is true, been crushed and knead- 
ed into one another.” 

“ Oh ! thou sacred, beautiful land of peace ! ” sighed 
Pauline, “ that the tempest that is sweeping over the world 
should alight upon thee too, and destroy forever the happi- 
ness of thy valleys ! ” 

“Forever! That sounds, my good friend, as though 
you had lost faith in heaven. Even showers of l)lood are 
blessings from God. Do not despair. If you care to make 
yourself a little better acquainted with the history of Switz- 
erland, you could not learn without wonder, that, for cen- 
turies, just as in other countries, in this land of “ holy peace ” 
there have been perpetual quarrelling and fighting ; at one 
time about villages, at another about religion, now about 
money, now about rights ; you would begin to doubt about 
the happiness of these valleys, where a ruthless nobility be. 
longing to the higher classes of the city people, or a back- 
stairs and fighting nobility, together with priests, bishops 
and monks, vied with each other in grinding down the poor, 
enslaved, serf-like people, and keeping them in a state of 
helpless stupidity, so that they might laugh at their expense, 
live at ease upon their toil, or barter them away to live 
in foreign barracks, or shed their blood on foreign battle- 
fields.” 

“ No ! no ! captain, what are you saying ? Switzerland 
was always a republic I ” 

“ Certainly ! but much in the same sense as Poland was, 
where the nobles and priests constituted the people, and the 
people themselves were a cypher ; indeed, it was in a worse 
condition than Poland itself, which had, at any rate, tho 


TEE VOICE FROM HEA VEJV. 


267 


comfort of being one state, under 07 ie royal head. But here, 
heaven knows ! we had nearly as many republics as valleys ; 
as many little heads as abbots, priests, city and village 
magnates ; as man}' political parties and factions as repre- 
sentative families.” 

“ Heaven help us,” said Pauline, laughing aloud, “then 
give me my Austria and my emperor ! If I were only safe 
and sound again in Vienna with my iDoor Clara ! I ought 
not to be merry too soon, however. For we are not yet 
beyond all danger. All around us the din of war ; the 
roads choked with soldiers: and Clara so much needs rest 
and care ! and here we are helpless in a foreign land, and 
had I not found you, my friend, — yes, allow me to call you 
so, for you really are — ” 

He gently pressed her arm, as though to thank her, and 
said : “ If I may really flatter myself with being so fortu- 

nate, I hope you will not yet dismiss me from your ser- 
vice ! ” 

“Dismiss you,” she repeated, with an air and tone of 
entreaty : “ No, have compassion a little longer upon us 
tvvo forsaken ones. I am greatly in your debt already, but 
your kindness makes me incline to heap up my debts with 
you, although I do not exactly know how they are ever 
to be paid.” 

“ And, pray whither shall I accompany you from here ?” 

“ Whither ? do you ask me ? I answer with a sigh ; 
whither my heart impels ; whither perhaps — no, not per- 
haps, but certainly your own heart leads you. Your pro- 
phetic vision in Disentis tells me so, you will, you must see 
Flfrida von Marmels once more. The mourning garb, the 
black surroundings of the vision, signified Elfrida’s agony 
of soul at having misunderstood and grieved, but not at 
having forgotten you. She showed you indeed the 
Rose of Disentis, but kept it and did not give it back to 
you. Yes, dear friend, you were misunderstood by her ; 
but, confess it, have you not misunderstood Ellrida until 


26S 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS, 


within the past few days ? And still, was it not the fault 
of both ? And have I not myself ventured upon this dan- 
gerous expedition, which I could never have dreamed would] 
turn out thus, for the sole purpose of carrying back home 
your forgiveness to Elfrida ? 

As she spoke thus, Flavian became more uneasy. He 
looked wildly around, as though seeking an answer, his 
breathing became rapid, he exclaimed in tones of great 
emotion: “Only forgiveness? I have nothing more to - 
forgive. Elfrida ? yes, she is and will be forever my — but 
w^hy turn the conversation upon her ? Why raise hopes ? 
It is indeed unfriendly of you ! ” 

“Unfriendly, and still call you my friend? Unfriend- 
ly, and still I am your debtor, who would gladly repay 
you. Well, I will try and do it. Listen to me ! You love 
my young friend. Every chasm between her and you has 
disappeared. You are loved : you were still loved even 
when the base, black arts of the Marquis Malariva had fair- 
ly clouded the h.alo which once surrounded, and still does . 
surround you in her eyes. Do you want proof. You 
shall have it after our arrival in Glarus, at any hour you 
choose to demand it. Would you give anything for such 
proof?” 

“ Everything in the world,” said Flavian. He stood 
still before her, seized both her hands passionately, looked 
at her as though in an ecstacy, and sighing softly, uttered , 
the mournful reproach : “ Oh ! what are you going once 
more to make of me ? ” 

“ Don’t stand still ! Come, my friend. The rest of 
the party are at hand. I have still much to say to you. 
May I hope that you will accompany me to the forlorn 
Elfrida ? ” 

“ How gladly ! But, dare we venture at such a time as - 
the present ? How get to Vienna through the multitude 
of battle fields and armies which stretch from Holland to 
Italy ? And your sick companion ! Let us await a more 


THE VOICE FROM HE A YEN, 


269 


favorable opportunity. In the meantime, follow me to a 
beautiful asylum at the foot of the Vosges, where my — ” 
“Have I not,” said Pauline quickly, “have I not al- 
ready told you that that splendid woman, Madam von 
Castelberg, opened a correspondence with your sister while 
you were sick ? that your sister has been informed of the 
i kindness with which you have undertaken to accompany 
j me and my sick ward to Glarus, and through Switzerland ? 

tliat she was so good as to invite me to — What a foolish, 

: forgetful creature I am ! Pardon my thoughtlessness. 

: But we have spoken to one another so seldom hitherto, 

; and known one another so little ! ” 

“ Miss Pauline ! Miss Pauline ! You are leading me 
from one beautiful surprise into another ! ” exclaimed the 
;| rifle captain in joyous astonishment. Question rapidly 
followed question, and answer answer, while the little cara- 
van slowly wended its way into the market-town of Eu- 
nenda. Nearly every house in it bespoke the comfort, 
wealth and industry of its inhabitants. Pauline von Stet- 
ten surveyed with pleasure, as far as possible in the late 
twilight, the neat buildings, here and there surrounded 
by gardens. 

But suddenly Prevost let go her arm, and stood as 
though rooted to the earth. He had heard some one from 
above calling him by name, and the voice seemed well 
known to him. He looked at Pauline in amazement. 
“ Am I crazy, or bewitched ? ” he said. 

“ Flavian ! is it you ? Flavian ! ” again rang in his 
ears, like a voice from heaven. 

He looked up ! He saw in a balcony half hidden by 
flowers, a face a2)pear. “ Pardon, Miss ! ” he said hastily, 
almost breathless : Go on ! Go on ! — Glarus — Golden Ea- 
gle — soon be after you ! In a moment — 

He did not finish ; bounded suddenly over the little 
bridge that crossed the brook into the open door of a 
neighboring house, and disappeared. 


270 


THE ROSE OF HISENTIS. 


Pauline looked at him as he went, in blank astonish- 
ment ; hesitated a while ; shook her head somewhat an- 
noyed, and rejoined the rest of the party a little out of 
humor. 


XLVIIL 


ONCE MORE. 

“ Tj^LAVIAN ! Flavian ” still rang out the sweet, treni- 
bling voice, as be bounded up the steps of the house. 

“Laura!” he answered in an ecstasy of joy: “my 
beloved sister ! ” catching in his arms the drooping form 
of her who, in the pain of her joy, had lost her tongue. 
He clasped her to his breast : she remained long with her 
arms thrown around his neck and her head resting on his 
shoulder. He then led, or rather carried her into her room, 
into which a terrified maiden lighted them. He put her 
down upon a sofa and seated himself by her without releas- 
ing her from his embrace. 

The choking silence came to an end : the loving brother 
and sister wept aloud. They got up again, it is true, look- 
ed at one another with silent tenderness, but fell again 
on each other’s neck. 

“ What an apparition ! ” he exclaimed, “ you here, my 
Laura ? ” 

“ Ah ! Flavian, do not leave me any more ! ” she sighed, 
with tearful eyes from which happiness was beaming : 
“ Ho, I will let you go no more. I have you, thanks to 
the All Good ! I have you. I am no longer alone. I have 
lost father, mother, husband : you alone are left to me. I 
know you would make a world happy ; make only one soul 
happy, and you have done enough.” 

It was only after the first powerful emotions of such a 
meeting had exhausted themselves, that the brother and 
sister were able to look at and speak to one another with 
something approaching composure. His beautiful sister 


2T2 


THE BOSE OF DISENTIS. 


stood before him dressed from head to foot in mourning, 
and lovelier than ever. 

“ But, Laura,” asked Flavian, “ by what combination 
of miracles did you get here, and when? How long, and 
with whom have you been living in the valley of Glarus ? 
Why did you leave your peaceful castle, and venture into 
tempest-tossed Switzerland ? ” 

“ Can you ask me such a question ? ” answered she ; “ I 
hied hither for your sake, to recover you, you, my soul ! 
And it was to your good angel, the lady of Disentis, that 
I owe my being able to hasten and meet you. She it was 
who sent me you/ first letter enclosed in one of hers, and 
gave me more comfort by her accounts, than you could. I 
answered you both immediately. She is goodness itself. 
By nearly every post, she sent me at least a few lines 
touching your health and' your doings, and every day I 
overwhelmed her with fresh wishes, inquiries and requests. 
But four days ago, when I got this last little note, written 
hastily in a trembling hand — take it, Flavian, and read it 
for yourself.” 

He took the letter, which contained the following : “ I 
repeat, respected Madam, that your brother is in the best 
of health. Only one request. Two Austrian ladies, fugi- 
tives in this land, given up to the horrors of war and insur- 
rection, want to fly to France and there await an oppor- 
tunity of regaining their homes in safety. Pardon my 
boldness ; but I venture to bespeak your hospitality for 
my friends. I think the captain will be kind enough to 
accompany the ladies, and to plead their cause with you 
in person. Once more, forgive my intrusion, etc.” 

“ P. S. I hear the only road left open is the one over 
the mountains to Glarus. They must shortly leaA^e, either 
in these last days of April or at the beginning of • ay.” 

Madam von Schauenstein’s eyes rested in full content- 
ment upon the features of her brother as he read. She 
embraced and kissed him once more, and then continued : 


OXCE MORE. 


273 


“Now decide yourself, Flavian ! My whole soul was over- 
joyed on the receipt of that news. It was the first ray of 
sunshine since the death of my husband. I had the horses 
harnessed, everything packed up; the coachman, men- 
servants and maids barely had time to take what was 
absolutely indispensable with them. We drove, almost 
without a break, through Basle and Zurich here to await 
you. I have been here since yesterday.” 

“ But this house, Laura, does not look to me like an 
hotel.” 

“ Certainly not ; it belongs to the wife of a worthy 
merchant, in business in Russia, to whom the Baron von 
Schauenstein has been of service some few times. I was 
impatient and ennuy'ee; I called on her, and she would 
not let me go; I had to stay. She lives herewith her 
daughters. Rooms are ready, too, for you and the ladies 
of your party. I left the travelling carriages and servants 
at the Golden Eagle in Glarus, they are on the look-out 
for you there. I was determined not to miss you.” 

Prevost now, for the first time, remembered the com- 
panions of his journey, and that it was his duty to see them 
so as to prevent any uneasiness on his account. Laura, 
however, would not let him go ; promised to invite them 
immediately, and, should they not be too tired, to have 
them driven over the same evening in her own carriage. 
She flew out of the room without heeding her brother’s re- 
presentations, and, after a while, returned, as though trans- 
figured with joy. 

“ Everything is arranged and settled,” she exclaimed : 
“ Now please to be quiet ! It is my turn to question, yours 
to answer.” And she began at once, while the maid laid 
the table and served their supper. A couple of hours 
passed like as many minutes. Flavian found it impossible 
to be circumstantial enough to satisfy his sister. She cross- 
examined him again and again touching the romantic inci- 
dents that had befallen him; scolded and kissed him in 


274 


TUE BÖSE OF DISENTIS. 


turns ; spoke of the Baron von Schauenstein’s will ; in- 
quired carefully about the tone and exterior of Pauline von 
Stetten, about her real relations with Miss von Marmels, 
about her sick travelling companion, about the daily life, 
looks, ordinary toilet of Madam von Castelberg, and other 
important items of the same description. 

The maid hereupon announced a messenger from Glams, 
who cut her speech short, by immediately walking in him- 
self. “ Why so much nonsense ? ” he shouted ; ‘‘ It’s only I, 
only I!” 

Ha! Uli, you?” said Flavian, and presented Uli to 
his sister, praising his faithful comrade who, in the moments 
of greatest danger, had never left him. “-You are already 
acquainted Avith the braA'e man from my letters,” he added ; 
“ If he will, he shall remain Avith us for the rest of his life. 
I am his debtor j he is my friend, and the noblest trump in 
the pack.” 

During this little complimentary speech, Goin stood con- 
fused, witli his mouth screwed up into a bashful smile ; but 
he was still more perplexed when Madam Amn Schauenstein 
took his gaunt hand betAveen her tender fingers and greeted 
him in the most cordial manner. “ Not at all,” he at last 
spluttered out, “Only believe half what the captain says. 
It isn’t half so bad. Miss, or Avith all respect. Madam, or 
Avhatever you may be. The captain Avould, in the end put 
me on a footing Avith himself. And that Avouid fit about as 
Avell as axle-grease and rosoglio. I knoAv \'ery AA^ell Avho 
stands in my skin, and that I smack of the barrack and the 
coAA'-pen. So I out with it, and you must take it as it 
comes.” 

“ What have you got for me, Uli,” said FlaAuan, “a let- 
ter?” 

“ Tavo instead of one ! ” Avas the ansAver : “ I rushed 
blindly on in the twilight Avith the rest, and didn’t miss 
you until Ave got to the Golden Eagle. That chatterer, 
Theresa, never gave me a chance to look around. Then I 


ONCE MORE. 


275 


had to get my supper, then Miss von Stetten kept me be- 
cause she had to send an answer to a note this good lady 
had written her. Then, as I was getting away, Theresa 
must come to the door, and give me this letter for you, 
captain. Only I should like to know what in the world the 
thing can have to write to you about ? ” 

Laura took the note, read it and said : “ Your compan- 

ion on the road, Flavian, declines our invitation for to-day ; 
but will call upon us to-morrow before noon. But I think 
we will anticipate her and take her with us.” 

“And what have I got here?” exclaimed Flavian, read- 
ing the address of the letter which he had just received : 
“ All, illustrissimo ed onoratissimo Signor Flaviano.” — 
Why, who knows me here ? Who did you say, gave you 
the letter, Uli ? Theresa ? ” 

“Well, sir, if the rag doesn’t come from her, and she 
certainly is not an Italian, thunder ! it must be from the 
fellow who stood near her in the dark by the door, and 
looked, from his coat with stand-up collar, like a servant 
to a hair. The impudent thing is like all the rest of them 
and has acquaintance everywhere.” 

Prevost tore open the sealed note, and read a few lines 
of Italian, to the following purport : “ Sir, my handwriting 
will tell you who I am. If we did separate upon bad terms, 
I have always esteemed you as a man of honor. I await 
you to-morrow in order to have matters explained, or I 
will call upon you, much against ray inclination, in Eimenda. 
My present abode is the Golden Eagle in Glarus ; Room 
No. 12.— M.” 

Laura looked inquiringly at her brother, and said : 

From whom is this letter ? He seems to be creating a 
(liificulty. It half reads like a challenge.” 

“ This beats me,” said the captain, “ I know neither the 
handwriting nor the man. Did you see any other strangers 
in the hotel, Uli ? ” 

“Nobody,” answered Goin, “ but that shabby-looking 


276 


TUE ROSE OF DISENTIS. 


servant, and two French officers on the steps ; hut I didn’t’ 
care to look at than too long.’* 

‘‘ As well as T can remember, I have never had much to 
do with any Italian ; perhaps it’s Malariva come back from 
the dead to play his diabolical tricks here again.” 

“ No, no, captain, don’t be afraid,” said Uli bursting 
into a loud laugh : “ When a man has been carried out of 
the house on his back, he doesn’t come back on his own 
legs. Challenge? Well, that sounds ugly enough, just 
as we thought we were getting some peace, it’s like the 
peacock’s scream before rain. Never mind, captain, thun- 
der ! we’ll see it out ; w'e’re both here, after all ! ” 

Surmises of all sorts were made ; the mysterious letter 
was read and re'read, they could make nothing of it, and 
there the matter stood for the present. 


XLIX. 


ALL'S WELL THAT SSDS WELL. 



HE next clay, the light of one of the loveliest of May 


mornings streamed in golden splendor over the land- 
scape. The very air was instinct with quickening life. The 
valley of Glarus looked like an enormous flower-basket, filled 
with blossoms of all descriptions between the green twigs 
of the shrubs, and marvellously framed in the mountains. 
Flavian and Laura were again early together, in order to 
convince themselves that yesterday evening was not a 
beautiful dream. The time sped rapidly in fresh questions, 
explanations and projects, until the moment arrived for 
starting for the neighboring capital. 

Laura arose to replace her light morning dress by her 
widow’s weeds. She took Flavian’s arm, and walked with 
him, in the cool morning breeze, and on the shady avenue 
through the meadows which led from Eunenda to Glarus. 
The landscape was there in all its majestic beauty and 
magic color ; here the solitary cottages half lost in blos- 
soming shrubs ; there the wandering herds with their 
tinkling bells scattered over the meadows bordering the 
w'aters of tiie Linth ; around them, the nearer Alpine 
heights, as though melting into solt vapor, from the rocky 
face of the Schilt, the pale green declivities of the Frohnalp, 
the Glarnish, torn and seared with the storms of thousands 
of years, to the hazy background where the stupendous 
masses of the Tödi glaciers towered above the thin mists 
of the morn. But they heeded it not. They did not even 
notice a lady, accompanied by a servant, who greeted them 
as she advanced towards them. It was Pauline von Stetten. 


2T8 


TUE ROSE OF DISEETIS. 


With the rapid glance of women, both ladies had 
quickly scanned each other, and were satisfied. Their 
strangeness soon gave way to confiding talk, and there 
arose a friendly contest as to whether Eunenda or Glarus 
was to be made for. Laura gained her point as she was 
desirous of making the acquaintance of Pauline’s sick 
countrywoman, and Flavian had an affair to settle with a 
nameless individual before he could belong entirely to 
them. 

“But, my dear friend,” said Madam von Schauen- 
stein, with an almost anxious or reproachful expression of 
face, “ what kind of a strange foreigner lives in your hotel? 
There is an Italian there who yesterday evening sent ray 
brother a kind of challenge ! How could he so soon have 
heard of his arrival ? Perhaps he saw you at the table 
cVhote f possibly you may have chanced to mention my 
brother’s name ? ” 

Pauline von Stetten answered, but not without a certain 
coldness, “ It is true, I ’was at supper in company with a 
few gentlemen, among whom were two French officers. 
The conversation turned upon the roads over the mountains 
from Disentis, and, upon that occasion, I may have referred, 
in terms of thanks, to Mr. Prevost. But I do not remem- 
ber that any one evinced particular attention at the men- 
tion of his name. Really ! a challenge, do you say ?” 

“ Certainly, to judge from the tone,” answered Laura, 
“perhaps you read Italian? Give it to her, Flavian, 
give it ! ” 

Pauline took the note, perused it rapidly, smiling and 
shaking her head, then handed it back to Flavian without 
the slightest appearance of concern, and said : “At any rate 
it is a stupid production. I do not know myself what to 
say to it. But — ” Here she became silent for a moment 
or two, then continued : “But my dear captain, get the 
affair over as quickly as possible, in order that you may 
afterwards belong entirely to us. Go pn before us, I beg 


ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 


279 


you. We will follow you leisurely, and by the time we 
arrive the affair will be over.” Here she eyed Madam von 
Schauenstein, unperceived by Flavian, and smiled archly, as 
though to secure her concurrence in the request. 

“Pauline is perfectly right ! ” said Laura, thoroughly 
understanding the purport of her new acquaintance’s look, 
“ Hasten forward, dear Flavian. Make short work with 
the gentleman.” 

“ And do not forget to pay my Clara a visit ! ” added 
Pauline ; “ prepare her for the appearance of your sister. 
She will be glad to see you.” 

“ Will she be able to receive one ? ” asked Flavian ; 
“ have the fatigues of the mountain journey left no tra- 
ces ? ” 

“ I have not seen the good child so jojmus for many 
weeks as she is this morning ; ” answered Pauline ; “ Gurgel 
and chasm and moraine and whatever else may be the 
frightful names of the mountains, have wrought a real 
miracle in her.” 

“ Then I obey with pleasure ! ” exclaimed Flavian, 
walking briskly forward, while both ladies followed slowly 
at first, and then, falling into an animated conversation, 
came to a dead stop. Pauline’s expressive play of arm and 
hand, as well as the position Laura had taken up in front of 
her, clearly showed every one who saw them, even from a 
distance, that weighty information was being communica- 
ted. The rifle captain, who, at a tolerable distance, took 
one more look back at them, saw with astonishment that 
his sister drew Pauline to her bosom, and held her clasped 
in a long and fervent embrace. 

That seemed to him too rapid a business for persons 
who had seen each other for the first time barely half an 
liour previously. Still he pushed forward, without any 
more delay, busied with many thoughts, to the stately capi- 
tal of the little Alpine republic, and the Golden Eagle. He 
here met, at thQ door of the hotel, Pauline’s maid in friend- 


280 


THE HOSE OF IJISENTIS. 


ly gossip with the servants and waiters. He asked one 
of the servants carelessly for the gentleman in No. 12, and 
then inquired of the chatty maid after the health of Miss 
Clara. But Theresa winked and smiled roguishly at him, 
dropped a low curtesy and said; “Zknow, Zknow whom 
you want. A moment’s patience, captain, and I will an- 
nounce you. Please to follow me.” The maid tripped light- 
ly up the steps and disappeared. Flavian, who followed her 
full of expectancy, saw her, a few moments afterwards, com- 
ing out of one of the rooms. She opened it, and pointing in 
with her finger said : “This must he the room of the gen- 
tleman you are looking for. Step in.” 

He entered a large, but rather low room. The door 
was closed behind him. Against the window was leaning 
a lady in mourning, as though absorbed in thought, scarce- 
ly conscious of his presence, her head sunk on her breast 
and her hands clasped and dropped. She was covered 
from head to foot in a black crape veil. 

Perplexed and annoyed at the impudent maid who ven- 
tured to play this joke upon him, the captain stopped, ex- 
cused himself for having entered the room by mistake, and 
turned to leave, when he heard a soft, trembling voice be- 
hind him say, “you are in the room of the convalesc- 
ing Clara.” 

“ Clara ? ” repeated Flavian with astonishment, not 
trusting his senses. He did not dare to approach a step 
nearer, uncertain whether he was to be treated by an 
accomplice to a continuation of the maid’s impertinent 
trick. But upon a little table, under the mirror, there 
stood, in a glass of water, a green slip of rhododendron, sim- 
ilar to the one which he had plucked for the sick lady on 
the top of the Panier Pass. 

The mourner seemed to notice his look at the glass, 
and said in a subdued, soft tone : “ The leaves live ; the 
leaves are still green ! ” 

Flavian, as though petrified at the sound of that voice, 


ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 


281 


blanched and stared at the apparition, hardly able to 
breathe. 

“ You were expecting to see some one else,” she said 
in a somewhat firmer tone: “My handwriting has, it 
seems, become strange to you — perhaps the person too. 
Well ! be it so, be it so ! if Pauline could deceive me. I 
have greatly sinned against you, Mr. Prevost; and sc you 
despise me. I will endure it. I alone was to blame in 
Vienna, and am again your debtor inasmuch as you have 
saved me and my friend from the horrors that are going 
forward in your country. But you Ilo^v know how I was 
duped and deceived; you now know how and why I came 
here.” 

Saying this, the veiled figure stei)ped majestically 
across the room towards him, threw back the black crape 
veil, held towards him a medallion with a heavy gold 
chain, and said : “ Here is the Rose of Disentis back, if 
you can still condemn me. Pronounce sentence ! ” 

Elfrida von Manuels stood before him in the very per- 
fection of maidenly beauty, lovelier than ever; her counte- 
nance preserved the same innocent, tender, inspired look ; 
but it was a little paler, and her eyelids were red with 
recent weeping. But for one single moment had she sum- 
moned the proud courage to address him; then her out- 
stretched hand fell listless by her side, and her head 
drooped forward on her breast. She stood silent, like a 
culprit awaiting the sentence of the judge. 

But he too stood stunned and speechless, as though the 
victim of enchantment. A joyous terror made his heart 
beat as though it would burst its barriers ; no one thought 
possessed him, for they coursed in myriads through his 
brain bringing light and darkness. His eyes swam; he 
saw, and yet did not see. It was the same form w'hich had 
appeared to him like a vision in his fever at Disentis, and 
the dream 'was once more before him. 

“ Elfrida ! ” — He whispered the name almost uncon* 


282 


THE ROSE OF DISENTtS. 


sciously, without changing a single feature of his now 
ritjicl countenance. She did not answer. 

“Elfrida!” he repeated. His voice was a sigh. But 
in that sigh things became clearer in and around him. 
He slowly approached the dejected form, which, like the 
tyj)e of humility, stood before him, crushed, silent and 
motionless. He took hold of her hand and pressed it 
passionately to his lips. Deeper and quicker breathing 
told of a mighty sorrow gone and an overpowering, new- 
born joy. He drew the cold, tender hand towards him. 
EH'rida looked up at him wdth swimming eyes, dejected 
and forlorn, and sank weeping on his breast. 

When consciousness returned, they found themselves, 
hand in hand, brow to brow, seated on a sofa. Eye was 
lost in eye, soul in soul in silent tenderness ; unspeakable 
things were said and understood without a w’ord. They 
tried words, but the only ones that rose to their lips w'ere 
their own names. But in these names the whole heaven 
of the present and the agony of the past were told. 

“ Oh ! God, pardon the soul-murdering Malariva ! ” 
she said. 

“Elfrida, do not desecrate your lips with his name!” 
he whispered, and gently pressed her lips with his own, as 
though to purify them. 

“ Flavian ! ” she said, timidly placing her arm around 
him ; “ Have you forgiven me ? ” 

“ Then after all, Elfrida you were the angel who appeared 
to me w^hen I was on my bed of sickness ? ” 

“ It was I, Flavian : I wanted to see you once more, and, 
at that time, I was hovering between life and death.” 

“ Oh you unmerciful girl I ” he replied, drawing her 
closer to his breast : ** why have you concealed yourself 
from me, you, my eternal love, until this moment ? ” 

“Do not scold me, Flavian, do not!” she said, caress- 
ing him : “ if doubt made me timid, my heart always be- 
lieved in you.” 


ALUS WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 


^S3 


“The sly, wicked Panline !” said the captain, after a 
short pause, smiling- at himself: “ so artless a face and to 
deceive me so terribly and so long.” 

“ Bless with me, Flavian, her angelic goodness, her 
firmness, her sagacity, her fidelity.” 

They talked long in the same sweet, incoherent fashion. 
Caresses interrupted questions, questions caresses. 

A slight knock was heard at the door. The happy lovers 
heard it not. The door was gently opened. They saw it not. 
The new-comers approached the pair. Madam von Schau- 
enstein scanned the beautiful stranger inquiringly, and 
with a feeling of anxious perplexity, scarcely daring to 
breathe. But Pauline von Stetten looked down upon the 
happy couple with joy beaming from her eyes ; she then 
leaned quietly over, with an arch smile, and whispered in 
Elfrida’s ear : “ I see ! I see ! A thorough reconcilia- 

tion.” 

Elfrida, astonished and confused, sprang up, embraced 
her friend and- hid her own glowing face in her bosom. 
Flavian embraced his sister, and said: “Laura, now my 
life is given back to me again : but,” he continued, point- 
ing jokingly at Pauline, “ beware of this wicked hxiry. She 
kept it from me so long ! ” He then took Elfrida from the 
arms of the triumphant Pauline, led her to Madam von 
Schauenstein, and said ; “ Here, sister, is your only rival in 
my heart ! — your sister ! ” 

Elfrida blushed as she bowed to the young widow. 
They looked at each other, for a moment, with compla- 
cency, both surprised at each other’s charms ; they then si- 
lently embraced, separated with moistened eyes, and again 
contemplated each other in joyful surprise. 

Pauline von Stetten was the first to break the solemn si- 
lence. She asked: “Am I to be the only one to play a 
dumb part here ? Far be it from me ! I will take a moth- 
er’s place with these two loving and beloved orphans. 
“ She took Elfrida’s hand, and laid it in Flavian’s. Flavian 


284 


THE ROSE OF DISENTIS, 


drew his love to his bosom, and, with a look of entreaty, his 
brow sank against hers. Pauline took the medallion from 
the sofa ; threw the massive gold chain around their necks ; 
kissed both and said, or rather stammered, with the deep- 
est emotion : “ Be thus forever united by the Rose of 

Bisentis.” 

“ Amen ! ” whispered Laura, gently weeping. 

We may, without danger, here break off a story, the 
issue of which everyone can divine. 


THE END. 




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